


One Time Only

by thepurpletitan



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: ;)) scenes, Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, College AU, Enemies to Lovers, Eren x Reader - Freeform, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Hate Sex, I hate that I love you, Lemons, NO PREGNANCY TROPE, Reader Beware, SPICY SCENES COMING, Slow Burn, Smut, Teacher!Erwin, bad boy Eren, but he's so adorable on the inside, but sexually explicit chapters before that, cause I hate it, cause SLOW BURRRRRN, eren seggsy, explicit scenes, i'll add to the tags as the story progresses, jean is a hot head, levi hange erwin best teacher trio, probably no seggs until at LEAST ch 10, reiner pines for historia lmao
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-14 13:22:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 26,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28796100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepurpletitan/pseuds/thepurpletitan
Summary: You've just started college, and couldn't be more excited. You haven't figured out how just yet, but these years are about to be epic- no boys on the agenda. Parties, new people, and classes of course, are all given. But as you settle into a routine, the one thing you want to avoid hits you like a bucket of ice water over your head. Eren Yeager.
Relationships: Eren Yeager & Reader, Eren Yeager/Reader, Krista Lenz | Historia Reiss/Ymir
Comments: 159
Kudos: 397





	1. Tears and Potatoes

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my corner of the internet!! As a preface - most characters belong to the AOT Production team and in no way shape or form am I trying to take credit for that so PLS DON'T SUE ME. Also, if you see any grammar/ spelling mistakes its cause I'm too lazy to edit properly, soz. 
> 
> That is all, enjoy the story!

“Alright. I’ll let you leave now,” your mother says with finality, hands on her hips. The whole time spent unpacking and organizing your dorm was nothing short of ordinary. Which was exactly why you now stood in the campus parking lot, packed with other students and their families, suspicion marking your features. “What?” she continues. But her voice is clearly strained, one of her tells.

“Mom, it’s okay to cry,” you assure her. All the other parents are, anyway. 

“What? I’m not crying, who says I’m-” her voice breaks, and the water works begin to flow. “You’re just so grown up,” she sobs and sniffles between her words and pulls you into a bone crushing hug. “It feels like yesterday I was dropping you off at preschool! I guess I just wanted to make this as painless as possible by not crying, but here we are.” You laugh at that - it’s just so like your mother. Always the one to shoulder the pain.

“I love you so much, mom. But I really want to do this, and christmas is right around the corner. We’ll see each other in a couple months' time, you know.” She lets you go reluctantly. 

“I know, I know. Alright, off with you. I’m embarrassing you, aren’t I?” your mother laughs and opens the car door. Before she climbs in, she smiles wistfully and says: “I love you sweet pea. Talk soon.” 

You watch as the blue sedan pulls out of the parking lot and into the streets of Seattle. Sighing softly, you turn to the school at your back and walk back to your dorm. 

Upon opening the door, a waft of baked potatoes hits your face. In your decent sized dorm, the sunlight spills onto the floor in a way that creates a silhouette of the girl hunched on the floor. She’s stuffing her face like a wild animal, her eyes shining even in the shadow the sun at her back creates. “Hello?” The girl looks up mid-chew, her cheeks stuffed with potato casserole. Sort of like a chipmunk. 

“Wawa Bwouse!” She smiles widely and stands up, the sun now illuminating her features. Her hair is chestnut brown, and she’s got light caramel eyes. After finishing her chewing, a sheeping look overtakes her face. “Sasha Blouse, sorry. I guess we’re roomies!” You can’t not smile at the girl, her vibrance is infectious. 

“Yeah, we are!” you say, and introduce yourself. 

“I only just started unpacking, so sorry if it’s a little crowded with the boxes and all,” Sasha apologises, and you do indeed notice this as you look around. Your side of the room is pretty normal, a couple piles of clutter but nothing extreme. Her side by the window looks like it's been struck by an atomic bomb. Boxes and clothes, fairy lights in a tangle on the floor, and… six tupperware containers of food. Six. You can only shake your head but smile. 

“That’s alright, I can help. Where do you want to start?” you offer. Sasha bends down to pick up the potato casserole and says:

“I’m thinking I finish this,” she looks down at the food, practically drooling, “and then we can organize the closet?” 

“Sounds good, but I have a condition of us being roommates. You seem to like food. A lot.” Sasha looks up then. 

“Why of course! Who doesn’t?” 

“Well, I was just thinking maybe you could keep your supply in the common room kitchen. Not that I’m super smell-sensitive or anything, I just don’t want the room to turn into a restaurant. I’m not a fan of it smelling roast turkey first thing in the morning.” You try to be blunt in a polite way, straightforwardness is important to you. 

A memory of your last boyfriend resurfaces, and you push it away. No more lying, conniving, cheating boys to ruin your life. 

“Sounds good to me. Hey, do you want some of this?” Sasha holds out the potato a little. 

“You know what, that would be great.” You might as well sit down and get to know the girl, she seems pretty sweet. So far, college is off to a good start.


	2. Emma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You've just started college, and couldn't be more excited. You haven't figured out how just yet, but these years are about to be epic- no boys on the agenda. Parties, new people, and classes of course, are all given. But as you settle into a routine, the one thing you want to avoid hits you like a bucket of ice water over your head. Eren Yeager.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't sleep, so despite posting the first chapter an hour ago, have another. Enter Eren ;)

Saturday and Sunday had passed quietly, as you and Sasha only really worked on settling in and exploring the campus. It had taken a good twenty minutes for your roommate to micro-examine the eating area and weekly menu, but the next stop was your favorite part. Your dorm was in the east wing of the residential building, which included two cozy common rooms. The one nearest your room had a kitchen attached, so while Sasha raided the fridge, you situated yourself on one of the three plush sofas facing the corner of the room: a flat screen TV and wide windows looking out toward the main building. 

There, you had met your first acquaintances (apart from Sasha). Connie, a short and energetic boy with a buzzcut who immediately reminded you of Sasha, what with her endearing childishness. Then there was Jean; taller and sort of gangly. He seemed like he would make a good mother hen for Sasha and Connie, who had at some point begun doing Jackie Chan karate imitations. It was all a good laugh.

But today is Monday, the first real day of college and classes. First up: linguistics. It’s more of a filler class, since you needed another to be considered a full-time student when you applied. But, having taken spanish since sixth grade, it’s not an issue. 

Standing outside the hall in the northern part of the main building, you take a deep breath and walk in. Some students have already arrived, including Connie, who says he’s ‘fantastico’ at spanish. Walking up the tiered rows of seats, you plonk down next to him. “Excited?” you ask.

“Yup! I’m majoring in european studies, so linguistics was kind of a no-brainer. Plus I heard the teacher lets us leave early on Thursdays,” Connie says and starts to get his material out. Just then, the doors open and a dozen or so students pour in and take their seats, a stout blonde woman carrying a stack of handouts following. 

“Welcome to linguistics class! I’ll be handing out the syllabus,” she holds up the papers, “and let’s get started!”

-

After your first class, which didn’t go so bad, you open up your schedule on your phone to realise you’ve got a free period. For two hours. Sighing, you start to make your way toward the library. Hopefully you can get a bit of planning for food done. Lord knows you would never dream of touching Sasha’s - you don’t have a death wish. 

“Hey!” Connie’s chirpy voice calls out behind, jogging to fall into step with you. “I talked to Jean earlier, and he says there’s a party tonight in one of the frat houses further off campus. You in?” 

“A party? Already? Jeez, it’s been like two days since everyone arrived.” To be honest, you weren’t really that surprised. It was college, after all. In Seattle, nonetheless. 

“I guess this year’s graduates want to start off their last year with a bang. Well, you and Sasha can meet me and Jean in the common room after classes, and we’ll figure it out. See ya!” He gives a little wave and bounces off to his next class. 

Walking toward the library, you mull the whole idea over: what difference did it make if it was the first or tenth week of the semester? Yes, you’d go. And rope Sasha into it, no matter how much it takes because though Jean and Connie are kind enough, you sure as hell aren’t going to your first frat party with two dorks on your arm. Regardless how sweet said dorks are. 

You’ve just sent a text along to Sasha telling her to come to the common room later when you round the corner into the hallway where the library is. And run smack into a hard chest. “Hey!” you exclaim and look up from your screen. 

“Hey yourself, you’re the one with your eyes stuck on your phone,” the guy’s voice is lively and flustered. You open your mouth to snap back, but the words die on your tongue. 

Holy hell. The stranger is a good few inches taller than you, so you crane your head up to really look at him. Rich, dark brown hair is tied back into a scruffy bun to reveal a gorgeously angular face marked with striking teal eyes. 

“Are you mute? You’re blocking the doorway.” That shakes you back to life. Who does this prick think he is? A pretentious one too, if the copy of ‘Emma’ by Jane Austen in his hand is of any indication.

“I’m not mute, thank you very much. And maybe you would be less likely to trample someone if you weren’t walking at a hundred miles per hour,” you hiss at him, wary of the open doors of the library just metres away. 

“Really? I’m the one to blame? Like you even pay attention to where you plant your feet. Watch it next time.” But the worst has yet to come. This guy has the audacity to reach out, grab your shoulders, and move you out of the way, before he continues down the hallway. 

What. A. Dick. The nerve of the hot head! You grumble aloud and continue toward the library, a scowl marring your features. No books dropped, at the very least. 

Your foul mood doesn’t last long, because the minute you enter the library your breath whooshes from your lungs. Aisles of dark oak bookcases reaching all the way up to the tall ceiling, every inch crammed with glorious, glorious books. The entire wall to the right is, like much of the campus, limned with large windows. One of your favorite things about the school. 

You’re here to make a grocery list in peace, but you might as well take out the required books for your literature course. You major. The class you were most excited about. 

Walking along the left side of the library and the little desks stationed there, you spot a sign pointing you toward the classics section. A smaller, round table is placed at the end of that aisle, as it's the very last one in the cavernous room. You decide to sit down first and do what you initially came for, then borrow the books.

-

It’s two hours later, and you’ve successfully made a meal plan and grocery list for the coming week as well as loan the books you need for lit; which is the class you’re now walking into. Rather than the steep lecture-type seating of the linguistics class, these spots gently slope up to give even those in the back a good view of the whiteboard up front. 

This class is clearly popular, so there are only a couple seats left available. You pick one somewhere in the middle, in between a drawn back blonde girl with a hooked nose and a lanky kid with a raven bowl cut. Who even gets bowl cuts anymore?

“Alright, hello and welcome to Literature class.” The professor’s voice is loud and commanding, rightly so coming from the tall man at the front of the room. “My name is Erwin Smith, but just Erwin is fine, no need for formalities. I want this to be a safe space where you can be expressive and find freedom in the form of reading and writing. Our first reading assignment will be ‘Emma’ by Jane Austen, so if you can get your books out, please.” You reach into your bag and pull the novel out, but upon looking at the cover, something hits you. 

Wasn’t… the guy you bumped into holding this book? Dear Lord. You glance furtively around the room, but the handso- totally not handsome boy with the sparkling green eyes doesn’t seem to be here. You let out a deep breath of relief. Only, something pokes your back. 

You turn your head around and there, in the seat right behind you, he is. Holding the pencil he poked your back with, a shit-eating grin on his face. Fabulous. “Looking for me, phone addict?” His voice is silkier than before, not as angry. You merely huff and turn back around.

Erwin - that’s going to be hard to get used to - is scribbling some instructions on the board, and the class begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things may or may not be spicing up next chapter... also, headcanon: Connie holds onto the straps of his backpack and bounces when he walks like that one vine. 
> 
> Comments and kudos much appreciated!


	3. Fashionably Late

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay... I lied. This one ended up being super long so I split it into two parts but fear not!! I'll be posting the other half ASAP. Lemons in the chapter after this, I pinky promise ;)

“And then he grabbed me and shoved me out of the way! I was SO close to slapping him,” you’re moaning to Sasha on one of the couches in the common room. Just then, Connie and Jean waltz inside. 

“Who are you beating to a bloody pulp?” Jean jokes and looks at you quizzically. The other students in the lounge turn and look, before going back to whatever they were doing. 

“Some guy in her lit class is just being a bit of a nuisance, that’s all,” Sasha fills the boys in. “Hey, get me a fistful of those candies while you’re at it,” she commands Jean as he fills up a glass of water by the kitchen. He mutters incoherently under his breath, probably something about Sasha’s antics. 

Connie plops down next to you, and rests his head in his hands. “So, about that party.”

“There’s a party tonight?” Sasha’s eyes begin to gleam with excitement. “There’s always so many snacks at those! Count me in.” You just shake your head.

“Yeah, I was getting to that, and I think we should go. Put ourselves out there, you know?” You agree. Besides, highschool parties were fun, but most likely nothing compared to college ones. Earlier in literature class, the girl next to you - Annie, she had introduced herself as - was mumbling about being dragged there along with her friends Reiner and Bertolt. Didn’t seem like the party type. 

Jean came around the sofa holding his water and Sasha’s candies, and said: “You don’t need to convince me, Connie. There will probably be hella hot girls!” His eyes became faraway, and you suspected he was picturing a pair of unrealistically large breasts in front of him. 

“Yes, well,” you cut in, “it’s almost six thirty and we need to get ready.” You tilt your head in Sasha’s direction. 

“What is it with girls and taking forever to get ready?” Jean says incredulously. “Just slap some hair gel on and call it a day.” At this, Sasha launches into a speech about how lazy boys are and why they don’t deserve women. You don’t disagree - boys truly do suck. 

“... So, my sincerest apologies if we don’t roll up to places looking like we live in our parent’s basements and do crack for a living!” She finishes vehemently, though her words muffle together as it is stuffed with candy. Oh Sasha - already, the idea of having a different roommate sounds impossible. 

“Come on, let’s leave the guys to their hair gelling,” you giggle and pull her off the couch. Time to dress up.

-

By eight, Connie calls for the third time to yell over the phone: “Get your asses out the door! We’ve been waiting in the car for twenty minutes!” It was true, but everyone knows that it's best to arrive half an hour later than what the invite states. It’s called being fashionably late. You hang up the phone and check the mirror one last time: a little more makeup than usual, two silver mini hoops on each ear, and your hair hangs in loose waves over your shoulders. You smack your glossed lips and adjust your clothing. Tonight’s outfit is a pleated black skirt and old hoodie, paired with some random sneakers from when you were sixteen. Straight off pinterest, but super cute. 

“Let’s go,” you say to Sasha who is waiting for you patiently by the doorway, glammed up in her own get up. She grins from ear to ear, and you make your way to the parking lot. 

Connie’s parents gave him their old car as a sort of ‘starting college gift,’ so he’s sure to become the designated driver from here on out. As you jump in, both boys grumble exaggeratedly. “Finally! Let’s get going, I’m on the verge of recovering from my alcoholic habits. And we don’t want that,” Jean jokes, and you all laugh at his silly antics. The car speeds off, and Seattle at night blurs around you as your friends hype each other up. 

College really was going to be great, and nothing could change that. You’d make extra sure boys certainly wouldn’t, as a testament to your mediocre (at best) high school experience. All they do is distract you, use you, and crush your soul. So you’re not about to hop back on that bandwagon. It will just end up you getting hurt and your grades dropping faster than you can say “boys.” 

“We’re here!” Sasha pulls you back to the present, and you realise the thrumming of the car is actually the music coming from the house ahead, as the car is now parked by the curb a couple metres away. As the four of you step out of the car and into the fading summer evening heat, you take in your surroundings. 

It’s a suburban neighbourhood, except the street must be a courtesy of the school as all of the houses on it have greek sorority and fraternity letters stamped on the front of them. Nearly all the twelve houses are their own nightclubs, multicoloured lights flashing and spilling from them. “Hey, do you think this is some mega kick off thing?” You inquire as your little quartet weaves through the teenagers bouncing from house to house.

Jean answers, “Something like that. I was held back a year in high school before graduating, so I’ve got some friends in their second year here. That house over there-” he points toward the biggest house at the dead end of the street, “is where the presidents of each sorority and frat stay.”

“They don’t stay in their own houses?” Sasha asks before you can. 

“No, my guy Eren is friends with the president of the most popular frat around here, so that’s what he says.” You’ve reached the end of the street now, and the mansion-like house looms in front of you, its booming music and strobe lights just another note in the symphony of parties around you.

“Who’s Eren?” You ask as you step onto the porch. On the grass this side of the house, people stand in clusters chatting, drinking and just having a good time. This is your scene - the perfect way to unwind after the first day of classes.

“He’s - speak of the devil!” A smile spreads across Jean’s face as you’re now standing in front of the open doors, and a tall figure comes out the doorway. 

“Jean! About time, we were getting worried you wouldn’t graduate at all,” the strangers laugh is pleasant and… familiar?

You at last look into his face, and - great. Fanfuckingtastic. It’s the idiot who nearly knocked you over earlier today. This would be a blast. 

“Kindly fuck off,” Jean says sarcastically. “But yeah, this is Connie,” he gestures toward Connie, who steps forward and gives Eren a guy hand-shake. Next is Sasha, who simply steps in for a hug. Ugh, how can they be so nice to him? Then you hear your name from Jean, and you are forced to acknowledge Eren. 

“Hi,” you introduce yourself blandly. Eren smiles at you and pulls you in for a hug, which is unexpected. Is he really going to act like he wasn’t an asshole just hours earlier? Or worse, did he not remember you at all?

“Hey,” he says as you step out of the awkward embrace and you look grudgingly into his teal eyes. “I’m Eren. You guys just come in and make yourselves at home, there’s snacks pretty much everywhere” - Sasha perks up at this - “and drinks should be in the kitchen. I’ve got to go help set up the ping pong table, but I’ll see you around.” 

With that he beckons the four of you in, but as he turns to go inside you catch his eyes. They narrow a fraction, and he smirks. So he does remember you. Bastard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Queue spice.
> 
> Kudos and Comments appreciated !


	4. Body Shot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised. This one's a little longer, but I couldn't put it off any more. Enjoy :)

The interior is jam packed with bodies, none of which you recognize, jumping and moving with the deafening bass of the music. The rooms on the entrance floor are all connected by wide arch ways except for the kitchen, which is enclosed in a corner at the back of the house. The slimmer arch way there reveals only a glimpse at the island in the middle, housing countless bottles (empty and full) of various liquids. Alcohol, soda, chasers, the works. 

Sasha yelps and runs off as she spots a table against a wall full of chips and guac. A very tall, gangly guy stumbles in front of you, Connie and Jean. Annie looks teensy tiny at his side, acting like a support crutch. “Connie! S’nice to-” burp, “-see you here!” Connie laughs loudly.

“Yo, Bertolt. Had a lot to drink?” Not waiting for his response, Connie turns to you and Jean and says: “This is Bertolt. He’s in my european studies class along with Annie here.” Jean chuckles and slaps Connie’s back.

“Well, good luck with that. I’m gonna go hit up that hottie over there,” he says and points to a shy looking girl with short black hair. You realise it's Mikasa, a girl from your linguistics class. She was really sweet this morning, but you didn’t peg her for the party type any more than poor Annie here.

Jean swaggers off in her direction and you pray internally for her. 

“Hey,” Annie calls your name softly, barely audible over a remix of ‘Say So’ by Doja Cat. Props to the DJ, you guess. Connie has pulled Bertolt away to the bathroom, so it's just you and Annie. It isn’t awkward, just a little… strange. Neither of you have really talked much, seeing as you only just met this morning. “I think they’re playing beer pong upstairs, you wanna go join them?” She asks, the corners of her mouth turned upward almost imperceptibly.

“Yeah, that actually sounds perfect right now.” The two of you start to walk toward the sweeping staircase at the entrance hall, squeezing in between the sea of people. “You know the Eren guy?”

“Yeah, he’s something alright. His roommate Armin - super sweet guy - is in a few of my classes, and he says two girls and one guy have already asked him to ask Eren for his number,” she says unbelievably. “If you ask me, he looks like a jerk.”

“Right!?” Someone finally gets it. “Today, I was walking to the library and he walked straight into me, didn’t even apologise and then accused me of being a phone addict!” you rant as the two of you reach the top of the staircase. There are only a few less people up here, and most of them are just couples pushed against the corridor walls, making out. You continue down the hallway to the left, lined with doors that are presumably bedrooms. 

“Not surprised,” Annie gives a humourless snort. “Look, I think they’re playing some drinking games in there,” she says and points toward a set of open double doors at the end of the corridor. As you approach it, Annie’s statement is confirmed. It’s a spacious room with large windows overlooking the back of the house, which is where stoners and other smokers have set up camp. You’re surprised they even bother to go outside to do it. 

Shifting your attention back to the room you’re in, you take a quick look around - it seems to be a bar room, fashioned like an old drinking parlour with a large mixing area to the left and a long table to the right. The space in the middle of the room is occupied by an island the same size as the dining table, but it's connected to the bar and has a couple bar stools around it that nobody seems to be using. Instead, a dozen or so people are gathered around it, one person lying on their back on the counter top while someone else does a body shot off them. Even the people around that aren’t part of that little circle cheer and howl as the people doing the body shot top it off with a smack on the lips. 

“Get over here!” a rough voice calls Annie’s name from the bar circle. 

“This is Reiner,” She introduces the guy as you approach the counter top, who’s bulky and got blonde buzzed hair. Despite his hard features and small hazel eyes, his smile is welcoming. You’ve barely introduced your name before he repeats it back to the group, along with Annie’s. They all cheer in what you assume is meant to be a welcoming way, and you do a quick scan to see if you recognize any of the faces. 

Unfortunately, you do. Of course Eren is here of all places. He catches your eye and raises his eyebrows, and you can tell he’s trying very hard to suppress a smirk. He gets a D for effort. Reiner interrupts the silent staring contest by announcing the rules of whatever it was they were doing. 

“So, I spin this fine looking bottle of tequila,” he holds up the bottle and is met with a couple ‘woops,’ “and whatever two people it lands on need to do a body shot together.” Simple enough. You were acutely aware of the possibility of Eren and yourself having to do this, but… Oh, to hell with it. You weren’t letting a cocky bastard like him scare you away. 

“Sweet, I’m down,” you say confidently and look to Annie, who holds up her hands to excuse herself. 

-  
The first few pairs take their turn, and you find yourself laughing and cheering along with the others, trying your best not to make eye contact with a certain someone across the circle. The tequila had been passed around when it wasn’t being used to pick the next pair, and you’re grateful for the effect. Your brain lags behind just enough for you to not feel self conscious under the gaze of those brilliant green eyes, and the music has dulled your ears to the point where everything around you is one smear of colour, sound and light. Apparently a little too much, as the person next to you needs to poke your arm to grab your attention. “You’re up!” they shout and gesture toward a tanned brunette with freckles. 

You laugh and the very last of your nerves shudder away with the help of the alcohol. Ymir, she says her name is, hops up on the counter top and pulls her shirt up, revealing a high necked sports bra and muscled stomach. 

On the end where Ymir’s feet dangle off, slices of lemon and a little tray of salt rest. It's also where Eren is standing, a hand already outstretched with both. Feeling a spike of confidence mixed with irritation, you take them from him and throw him a sarcastic ‘thanks.’ Back at Ymir’s head, you place the lemon in her mouth and sprinkle the salt so that it gathers in a line in one of the dips of her abs. Reiner pours the tequila up into a shot glass, and hands it to you. “Bottoms up!” He yells and you down the shot without hesitation. 

At this point, it's no more than a nice warmth as it settles in your stomach. Immediately, you lick the salt up (which stings more than the tequila) and go for the lemon. Ymir lifts her head up and you half-kiss as you suck the juice out of the lemon, the wedge blocking your tongues. 

You both laugh as she gets up and spits the pip out. You’re content to go back to watching and swiggin from the bottle, but it seems fate has other plans. 

Reiner is already spinning the damned thing, and coincidentally, it lands on you again. “Double trouble!” someone yells and you’re secretly kind of excited. Since you haven’t been up on the bar yet, you make to do so - struggling to hoist yourself up. 

“And… Eren!” Reiner announces like a commentator on a football game. Wait a minute. Eren. EREN? Even the haze in your brain can’t shrug that off. Your eyes dart to the end of the table, and there he is, walking up to face you. He smiles devilishly when your faces are mere inches away from each other, and you back up only for your butt to hit the edge of the island. 

“Need a hand?” he says low enough for only you to hear. Okay, so maybe you should have slowed down on the drinking. You can’t even formulate a response because the only thing in your head is static, and before you know it a strong pair of hands close around your waist, lifting you up, up and then you’re sitting on the edge of the bar counter. 

“Get a room!” you hear someone joke from the crowd that has been steadily growing since you initially joined the circle. Warmth creeps unwarranted up your cheeks, and it has nothing to do with the alcohol. 

No. No way is one cocky boy going to take control of you like this. Doing your best to act more sober than you are (although everyone here is probably drunk out of their mind anyway), you scoot back and lay down on the cool surface of the counter top. You pull up your hoodie to show off your bare torso save for your bra- a sapphire blue push up bra. Undeniably, your tits look amazing in it, and at this point you can’t bring yourself to care that maybe fifteen people are paying attention to it. 

It feels kind of good, makes you feel powerful. Besides, you’re just one out of the many other party-goers who have had to do this in the past hour. 

Propping yourself up on your elbows, you look forward to see what’s going on. Eren is standing by your legs, lemon slice and salt bowl in hand. He walks forward tortuously slowly, and hovers over your face. “Open up,” he demands, one corner of his mouth curved up. You obey, and he slips the wedge of lemon between your teeth. Before moving back down to your stomach, he lets his thumb brush over your chin. 

You’re entirely sure he can hear the rapid thump of your heart, but he merely takes a pinch of salt between his fingers and lays it out in the faint ridge in the centre of your upper stomach, just below your breasts. It feels like he’s dragging a feather down it, and the heat in your cheeks drops traitorously to your stomach. 

The crowd is everything but silent, the sound of laughter and cheering and singing soaking the air as he downs the shot Reiner has poured him. Eren lowers his head to your stomach, his lips dangerously close to your skin. Before anything else, he looks up at your through half-lidded eyes. His pupils are blown wide, which must be an effect of the dimly lit room. And then he resumes.

Immediately, you feel his warm tongue lap slowly at the salt, sizzling like electricity. Why are you feeling like this? You should be appalled at his nerve, but instead your brain short circuits. 

And it certainly doesn’t start up again when he moves, way too fast for your brain to register, up to your face. In no time, his nose is against yours, and his lips ghosting your own over the lemon. Everything but Eren becomes background noise, loud but barely visible, and you’re hyper-aware of the way he tugs at the lemon as he sucks the last of it’s juice out. Your knuckles are white from gripping your skirt so hard.

You expect him to pull away, but what he does next shocks you into another fucking dimension. He lifts the lemon out of your mouth - not that it was really secure, as your mouth is practically hanging open - and with your faces still connected, flicks his tongue out to your lower lip before finally pulling away. Nobody except you will have even noticed it. 

The circle around you bursts into howls and woops of praise, and a small hand suddenly grips your wrist. Sasha’s voice is inaudible at first, but as you recover enough to sit up, her worried face shakes you from your daze. “Hey!” she yells your name. “Jean got into a fight, the great idiot, and Connie’s driving us all home. Come on!” 

Sasha practically drags you off the bar and toward the doorway, but before you can slip away you scan the room. Eren is nowhere to be found.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :o !! See what I did there. Literal lemons. Haha.
> 
> Kudos and Comments appreciated!


	5. Faraway Places

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slightly shorter chapter as I get to writing some... hotter ones. Enjoy :)

Seven-thirty on Tuesday morning. Your phone’s alarm blares into your ear, stirring your fuzzy brain. You groan, not completely awake yet and barely open your eyes before your head starts to pound violently. Ah, the perks of drinking. Why hadn’t you just stayed in last night? You knew you had to get up early for class anyway. 

Pulling yourself up into a sitting position, you take a deep breath and a sip from the glass of two day old water on your nightstand. Sasha is snoring louder than you thought humanly possible, yet you can't blame her. The girl’s got a single class today, the lucky bastard. Scowling, you get up and ready yourself for the day.

-

Later during the day, you sit scribbling idly on a handout in creative writing class next to Reiner. You never would have guessed a hulk like him picked creative writing on his application here, but you’re definitely not mad about it. 

The two of you had spotted each other in the hall on the way to the lesson and opted to sit next together. He was quite chatty which would normally be nice, except you had a little too much on your mind to pay attention as he gushed about Historia, a teensy blonde girl up in the front row of seats. 

No, your mind was and still is entirely, completely, and irrationally filled with a billion thoughts centred around one person in particular. Eren Yeager. The turquoise eyes, his self-satisfied little grin he wears around- christ. He just won’t leave you alone! 

And the entire day, since the fog in your brain cleared enough to recall last night, your body’s been racked with tension. Mr. Berner had already called on you twice, and both times had to repeat the question. So you sit, at the peak of your jittery nerves, waiting for class to be over. Or rather, dreading it. And you know it’s soon as you had been staring at the clock pretty much the entire lesson. “Okay class! See you all tomorrow, you’re free to have your lunch,” comes Berner’s booming voice interrupting your thoughts. 

You try to move as slowly as possible without looking constipated, and start toward the door. “Hey,” Reiner says and catches up to you. You smile, but really your thoughts are miles away. “You and Yeager, huh?” 

That catches your attention. “What?”

“You know, the two of you seemed… interlocked somehow yesterday,” he continues suspiciously. “Quite the kick off.”

“Oh.” Oh no. what do people think of you now? Had they seen the way Eren’s tongue brushed against yours? Do you now come off as loose, as his play thing? You had heard from Reiner today that he was a bit of a player. “Right,” you merely respond.

“‘Right’ what? You guys are a thing?”

“What!? No!” ABORT, ABORT. 

“Jeez, sorry. Didn’t mean to strike a nerve,” Reiner laughs. It isn’t even a surprise; your nerves are so easy to hit right now. He must see the anguish spelled across your face, because he just shrugs and keeps leading you to the cafeteria. “Come on. Let’s get something to eat.” You’re suddenly thankful he’s him and not Sasha. You already love her, but she definitely would have kept pressing. 

As you round into the cafeteria, your eyes immediately flit across the open space. After securing the area, you allow a small breath of relief. The coast is clear. There is no line yet as you and Reiner, along with the rest of your classmates are some of the first ones there. 

This pulls you toward the food - oh, if only Sasha were here. It’s still steaming and the delicious smell of chicken floats up to your greedy nose. Maybe some food will finally soothe your unease. 

-

Once you’ve eaten your fill, you look at your clock and - crap! Literature is in two minutes! You scramble to gather your belongings and put your plate away, all but sprinting to the south wing where the lesson takes place today. 

You should have checked where all the classrooms are, you kick yourself as you run frantically in search for the stupid classroom. At a bend in the maze of corridors you're walking through, a professionally smooth voice calls your name. “Miss? The classroom is this way,” says Mr Smith - Erwin, and gestures for you to follow. 

“Thank you Erwin. I hope you didn’t need to search for me too long, I’m sorry for being late,” you do your best to apologise. It is only the second day of classes, after all. 

“Quite the contrary, actually. I was just in a meeting with a student that ran late, and saw you loitering here. Looking quite confused.” A stroke of luck, then.

Erwin and you approach the class waiting outside the aula, where he proceeds to unlock and enter through the door. Filing in, you once again find yourself automatically searching for a dark brown head of shaggy hair. Once everyone has taken their seats, you do another sweep. And just as at the party, Eren is nowhere to be seen. You suppose it should come as a relief, but… somehow it puts you even more on edge. Where could he be?

You sit through this (slightly more enjoyable) class much like the other ones: half expecting Eren to burst through the doors, and having half a mind to burst out of them yourself. The suspense is killing you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What could he be up to...
> 
> Kudos, comments and feedback much appreciated, x


	6. Drink your fears

A week has passed. A WEEK, And no sign of Eren. Granted, he was only in one of your classes, but he hadn’t shown up for the rest of Lit that week and wouldn’t you have seen him bulldozing through the halls again? Not that you’re worried about him or anything, just… curious. Whatever, he’s probably just getting high at some party. No need to think about him.

Still, you had a hard time getting him off your mind while walking to linguistics the next Friday. Connie’s excited chatter beside you was a nice distraction, but Eren was able to break through even that with the way he provoked such strong reactions from you. Yesterday Sasha had poked fun at you for slamming a cupboard in the kitchen. If only she knew what was really on your mind.

Fed up with yourself and your traitorous brain, you tune into what Connie’s prattling on about. “...And I was like: No Jean, YOU started it. And that’s how I got him to start anger management.”

“Right,” you chuckle and take a left into the classroom. Despite his childishness, Connie was the best at lightening the mood. 

“Good afternoon! Please take your seats,” the teacher projects her voice over the restless students on a Friday afternoon.

-

As you file out of your last lesson of the day, you want nothing more than to frolic into the weekend. The steadily growing pile of work on your desk in your dorm says otherwise, but you deserve a night off from it- you’ve been working hard since the term started. Reading your mind, Jean sends a text to the groupchat you’re in along with Sasha and Connie. 

Jean: Let’s all get drinks. I’ve had a shit day.

Sasha: Alcohol isn’t always the solution, ya know.

Jean: You’re right. It’s a question. And the answer is YES.

Connie: I second that!!

Smiling to yourself, you send out a text of your own. 

You: I’m down, come on Sasha! It’ll be nice :)

Sasha: Fine. But I’m only going cause the bar around the corner has good chips!

Score. You check the time- quarter to six. While that’s outrageously late for a class to run (on a Friday, no less), it also means you don’t feel obligated to wait until later to start drinking. And with the added darkness that envelops Seattle so early this time a year, it isn’t a problem. 

You reach your dorm, where Sasha is hiding out with a bowl of carrot sticks. “Hey,” she greets you. “Ready to leave soon?” 

“Yep, just wanna freshen up quickly. Be right back!” You throw over your shoulder as you’ve grabbed your toilet bag and are now walking to the communal showers. It’s co-ed, but each stall is made more like a tiny room with a space to step out of the shower and dry off without channeling your inner contortionist. 

There are a couple other students in there, so it’s nice and steamy as you walk in. People mill about, mostly clad in towels and admiring their reflections in the large mirrors that cover the wall where the sinks are. Why schools have co-ed bathrooms and wonder why mono is so common is beyond you. 

You shrug your shoes off and make it to the back of the lofty shower room, because that’s where the least people are. Once inside, you strip and step into the hot stream of water. It’s just perfect, the tension that’s plagued your muscles the whole week for Eren’s absence eases quickly, and you stand there in pure bliss a couple minutes before washing your hair. 

Sad to see the heat leave, you step out and wrap yourself in your fluffy towel. The steam is getting a little suffocating, so you walk out, clothes and toilet bag in hand. You had planned on doing your makeup in here by the sinks, but that plan immediately falls through. You stop dead in your tracks halfway across the tiled floor, eyes glued to the fifth shower stall. 

Because through the doorway, steps Eren, torso bare and a white towel resting VERY, dangerously low on his hips. His milky skin is spotless and smooth, water dripping between the ridges where his abs are on delicious display. Your eyes drift upward, taking your fill of him. His hair is damp and hanging loosely, his face- fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. 

He’s looking right at you, caught you red handed. As smoothly as possible, which probably isn’t very smooth at all, you turn around and half-jog to the sinks. He wouldn’t dare approach you now, under these circumstances, after disappearing for a week. Why is he even here? Stupid, stupid you tell yourself as your heart starts to gallop. You make a point of keeping your eyes to yourself as you start opening your makeup bag. 

“Fancy seeing you here,” he says from right behind you. You startle and smear mascara over your eyelid, scowling at his reflection. 

“What do you want, Eren?” He wasn’t getting it easy, not after pulling that shit. 

Then the arrogant fucker has the audacity to smile. “Just wanted to know if you were enjoying the view.” You roll your eyes and continue to fix your makeup. “Well?”  
“Well what?” you sigh, and look into his eyes again.

“Like the view?” His eyes are half lidded now, hot and molten. They remind you of sea glass. You remember his dumb question, not entirely sure if he wa being rhetorical. You have the dignity not to blush, and you’re determined to take control of the situation. 

Swiping a clear gloss over your lips, you smack them and turn around to face him. His body is completely still, the corded muscles beneath his delicate skin giving nothing away. Still, you pin him with the hardest stare you can muster. Though you’re pretty damn near it, you feel extremely bare shackled under his gaze. 

Only a few seconds pass, but it feels like a lifetime as the air stiffens around you both. Steam clings to your skin and stifles your already shallow breathing. Just before you think you’ll pass out then and there, Eren lifts one corner of his mouth into a cocky little grin. You open your mouth to tell him to fuck right off, but are cut off when he turns around and saunters back to his stall. 

-

“Aw, come on,” Connie and Sasha try to cheer you up as soon as they notice your pissy mood once your little group starts walking to the bar. 

“I guess getting hammered was a good call,” Jean jokes. You can’t help but join in on the laughter. “Honestly, what’s got you so worked up?” he asks.

“Or rather who…” Sasha says suspiciously. You throw her a weird look- how could she know? She obviously picks up on it, because she proceeds to announce to the group: “She mumbles in her sleep, and last night she mumbl-”

“Sasha!” You interrupt before she can incriminate you any further. A furious blush creeps up on your cheeks. 

“Oooh, look who’s who’s got a crush,” Connie teases. Jean falls into a fit of giggles, and Sasha looks at you apologetically and slaps the boys on the back of their heads. 

The bar you’re heading to isn’t far away from campus, so you recognize a couple faces from school as you near walk in. The lighting is dim, and the air is alive with the buzz music, conversation and laughter. It’s pretty packed too, so Jean and Connie lead you and Sasha to a booth in the back. “Come on, let’s get the drinks,” Sasha says and drags you toward the bar. 

None of the bar stools are vacant, so the two of you engage in easy conversation with some boys from school that are seated. Once the very tired looking bartender turns to you, it’s an effort to raise your voice loud enough for him to hear. You go with two rounds of shots (plus a weird fruity concoction for Connie), Sasha butting in to add a couple chip bags to the order. “Is that all?” The bartender sighs almost inaudibly, but you nod and walk off with Sasha on your arm. 

She bounces up and down in excitement all the way to the table in an effort to lift your spirits, but at this point you’re just eager for something strong to wash down your poor mood. 

A pretty, strawberry blonde waitress comes by and drops the drinks off, who Jean shamelessly winks at. Oh, Jean. After she leaves and Jean can finally tear his eyes off her swishing hips, he raises his glass in the air. “It’s been a shitty week,” he announces and looks at you pointedly. “Bottoms up!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY I LIED. But the chapter was so long I had to split it into two parts again. I'll upload the second part now. Spice incoming ;)


	7. All for you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is. Yes, I did throw my laptop across the room while writing, if you must know. Ily guys.
> 
> ALSO I recommend listening to devils advocate by the neighborhood while you read ;))

The four of you down a couple rounds of shots, Sasha making a little squirmy face and Connie trying to cover up his gagging. Jean laughs, you and him immediately going for the next shot. 

“I still haven’t figured out if it’s worth the acrid taste,” Sasha comments. “Why would one eat or drink anything that didn’t taste good?”

“It’s not the taste you drink it for,” Jean laughs. Sasha gets defensive and Connie sips on his sweet cocktail to alleviate the burn. 

“I could go for a couple more,” you murmur, and your friends look at you before laughing. Great, people making fun of your feelings. “Remind me again why we’re friends?”

-

It’s half an hour and a good few shots later when the effects of alcohol manage to ease your edginess. Nobody is overly drunk, but the line separating loosened up and slurring on your words is blurring quickly. “I gotta pee,” you wheeze out between fits of laughter after Jean accidentally burps while (trying to) sweet talk the waitress from before. 

You get up to leave the booth, and you head spins dangerously before you can regain your balance and keep walking. It seems as if even more people have crammed into the bar, and you spot Reiner, Annie and Bertolt by a high table for four near the window. 

Even if you had been in the mood, you’re not entirely sure you can walk over there and chat them up without accidentally spilling some embarrassing detail of your life. So you squeeze between groups of people until you find the ajar door to the bathroom stalls. 

The light in there is red and low, something like a nightclub with the way the walls are lined with stalls, encircling the island of sinks and one giant mirror in the centre. Thankfully, no one else is there. You lean against one of the sinks and take a deep, deep breath. You can tell you’ve just reached the peak of your drunkenness, as the room doesn’t spin or blur sickeningly like when you’re about to throw up. Suddenly you hear the door to one of the stalls behind you swing open, and as you look into the mirror, your soul nearly leaves your body. “Dear god,” you mutter under your breath.

“Stalking me now, are we?” Eren’s voice is rough and low, indicating that you’re not the only one that’s had a couple drinks. 

“You’re the damn stalker, Yeager.” All the anger and tension that’s been simmering inside you the past week suddenly boils over at the sight of him and his stupid man bun. Who even wears those? And why was he pulling it off? Ugh! Stupid boy. “You know, you’ve got some nerve acting the way you did at the kick off party and then-”

“Acting like what?” he asks innocently.

“You know! And don’t side track me, I’m trying to scold you for being an absolute asshole. You just disappeared, and now here you are looking at me like that! What were you even DOING this past week?” He’s beyond infuriating, setting every nerve in your body aflame. 

You finish your little piece, but only silence follows. Like, dead silence. I would be awkward, except he’s holding your eyes so tight it's the only thing your brain can focus on. For a split second, a sort of melancholic look passes over his face, but it must be a trick of the lights that shift around him as he walks closer to you. In an instant, it’s gone and replaced with rotten desire. 

Once again, he’s got you pressed against a counter top with no escape. He places his hands on the surface on either side of you, your faces much too close for comfort. You can feel his cool breath fan across your collar bones as he tilts head down to your level. 

You try to think of literally anything else - how warm he must be in that navy hoodie, or the vibrations of the music from outside, how much you hate his guts. None of it works. His closeness is too much to bear, neither of your states of intoxication helping. The electricity crackling in the air is palpable, running down your spine and sending shocks of heat everywhere in your body, but mostly the pit of your stomach. 

His face lowers onto yours, and before thinking you immediately raise your own and meet him halfway. His hands fly to your hips and lift you onto the counter, and you wrap your legs around his waist as you crush your lips against each other. 

His hands roam around your waist and cup your ass as his head dips down to press burning kisses against your jaw, your throat. You throw your head back and gasp softly when his tongue flits across the little hollow between your collarbones. In response, he chuckles wickedly and the two of you continue your urgent exchange. 

The heat pools inside you, and you feel yourself pressing up against his muscled frame. Unable to stand the teasing anymore, you snake your hands up his hoodie and sigh at the gorgeousness underneath. 

“Someone’s eager,” he breathes out. How can he manage to formulate a sentence right now? You’d show him, you’d wipe the smug grin off his face.

Keeping one hand on his abs, you slip the other one back out and grab his chin. His exploration of your body stills, and you lower your lashes at him before pulling his face to yours.

He resumes his searing caresses, his touch like a brand on your skin. His tongue sweeps over your lower lip, silently asking for permission for more. What the hell, you think. You would be insane to deny him now. So you part your lips for him, which he greets with aching, languid kisses. 

Your free hand moves to his hair, pulling it free from it’s bun. You grab a fistful and murmur your consent as his fingers run over the button to your pants in question. “You’re sure?” Could this man get any more sexy? 

“Yes,” you reply in a rush. You need something to happen now, now, now.

You lift your hips a little as he tugs your jeans down. All the while, his face is pressed against the space between your throat and shoulder, kissing and suckling hard enough that the rapidly forming bruises sting a little. But not before his hot tongue slips out to smooth them over, soothing and caring in the middle of this heady moment.

Just when you don’t think you can get any more turned on, his hand slides down over the hem of your underwear. There, he merely rubs your skin with the impossible affection of a lover. But that’s not what you are, is it? The gentleness with which he touches you infuriates you, and you grip his hair harder, spurring him on. 

Something must have switched on in him too, because now he’s more rough with the way one of his arms snakes around your back, pulling you closer. So close, that the hard bulge in his pants presses into your core, covered only by the thin and damp material of your underwear. Waves of arousal stutter through you, made even more defined when Eren presses a knuckle against your wetness. “This all for me?” he asks lowly. You only mewl out an inaudible response. “I’ll ask one more time. This all for me?” 

“Yes! Yes, it’s for you, just keep moving!”

“That’s what I thought,” he rasps out, and wastes no more time. 

You inhale pleasantly, and you can feel his grin against your rosy cheeks. “Please…” You whimper in his ear. The coil sprung tight inside you is going to burst very soon. He pulls aside your underwear and swiftly inserts one finger. It’s too much and too little all at once, and you screw your eyes shut while grinding down onto his finger. 

He senses your neediness and adds a digit, while his thumb continues to rub slow circles over your clit. You’re toeing the edge of your orgasm, each flick of his fingers tipping you further and further until suddenly, you’re overwhelmed by waves of pleasure. Throwing your head back, you let them wash over you, black euphoria blinding your sight. He helps you ride it out with slower, more gentle strokes before pulling his hand back completely. 

You come down from your peak much too soon for your liking, but breathe out heavily and let your hand drop from his tousled hair. “Sounded like you enjoyed that,” Eren’s husky voice is muffled at first but clearer as he lifts his head from the crook of your neck. 

You scowl, the tensity returning. “Fuck you,” you mutter and jump off the counter. You’re tempted to slap the smug grin off his face, but opt to head back to your friends instead. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing your anger get the better of you, not when you already lost to his dirty words once already. 

Eren leans onto the sink with his arms crossed and merely says: “See you in class.” You storm out before you do anything you’ll regret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author has done well, yes?


	8. Zombie Land

What a precarious situation. One moment a certain someone is finger fucking your brains out in a bar bathroom, the next you’re free falling. Down, down, down, you tumble as if the ground has been swept out from under you. Your heart lurches painfully, making you feel all wiggly and jelly-like. 

You reel forward into a sitting position, panting and heart thumping like the hooves of hundred horses. Your skin is hypersensitive from the former part of your dream, so you feel the roll of every cold drop of sweat down your back. 

That was by far the oddest dream you’ve ever had - a wet dream turned nightmare. Probably just a sign that he’s bad news. You’re half tempted to fall back asleep if only to relive yesterday night, but it feels like giving in, like losing the unspoken war between Eren Yeager and yourself. Instead, you flop back down and grab your phone for some quality tik tok time. 

-

Its eleven twenty by the time Sasha chokes on her own noisy snores, effectively waking up. “Morning,” you mumble in a voice still heavy with sleep. 

“Gahh,” Sasha moans. “Why am I awake at this hour? Gonna go back to sleep now,” her voice is muffled by the pillow she’s pressed around her head and ears. You chuckle, used to her sloth and gluttonous tendencies. 

“Well, I’m not gonna be able to sleep any longer, so I’m going to make breakfast.”

This grabs her attention. “Did you say… Breakfast?” She peeks out from her pillow fort. You wink and get out of bed, to head to the kitchen. 

-

Unfortunately, Jean has beat you to it when you trudge in wearing your pyjamas.“You know bonfire night isn’t for another month, right?”

“I’m trying to work on my adulting skills! Must you rub it in my face?” he says your name exasperatedly. Taking a glance at the blackened bacon on the stove, you opt for a bowl of cereal. As you lean onto the kitchen island and dig in, Jean’s next words make you spit your cereal right back into the bowl. “Get some last night, did you?” He doesn’t even bother to hold in his laughter. 

“What!? Where... did you hear that?!!” you wheeze out between coughs. 

“I may be a stupid drunk, but I’m more perceptive than you give me credit for.” Your eyebrows are still knitted in confusion, so he proceeds: “Eren walked out of the bathroom not a minute later looking like a cat who got to the milk. Plus, your reaction just now sort of gave you away.”

Damn. Maybe he wasn’t so dense after all. Connie bounces in with Sasha a moment later, and you could kiss him for saving you from whatever conversation was about to go down between you and Jean. 

“Christ, what did you burn, Jean?” Is his first comment. Sasha groans in disappointment. 

“Fine! I guess I’ll just never cook ever again then! You’re all assholes.” He chucks the pan of scorched meat into the sink, moving over to the couch where he sighs dramatically. Sasha, Connie and you try your best to hold back your laughter. 

Connie is the only one who can cook a decent meal (he can be a real dad sometimes), so he takes control of the kitchen while you and Sasha join Jean on the sofa. 

Whatever Saturday morning programme is on the TV hums comfortingly while you try to make a mental list of what needs to get done today. So far, you’ve only got to work on school stuff and go shopping for some new underwear. Since coming to college, you realised laundry time slots are hard to come by, so you might as well stock up on the necessities. 

Connie comes over then, holding three plates of perfect, crisp, non-burnt bacon alongside sunny side up eggs. Sasha is once again drooling at the sight, and your stomach rumbles. When Connie sets them down on the coffee table, Jean begrudgingly scoots forward and digs in. 

“Oh my god Connie, your cooking is almost as good as my mom’s!” Sasha compliments between mouthfuls. “This is great.” You hum in agreement, as it’s definitely better than a soggy bowl of cereal at least. Looking over to Jean, your eyes flick down to his demolished plate, and then his grumpy face and crossed arms.

“Cooking just… isn’t for everyone,” You try to comfort him. He just humphs and looks out the window. You can’t help but chuckle at his childish behaviour, and go back to your own plate.

After Sasha, yourself and Connie finish eating, you announce your plans. “I’m going to the mall to get some stuff, so text me if you want anything. Sasha, you got everything for dinner?” 

“Yep,” she answers absently, most likely sucked up in whatever cooking show was on. Not wanting to disturb your favorite trio any more, you place your dishes in the dishwasher and head back to your dorm. 

-

A mild hangover makes itself known, confirming the fact that it’s going to be a lazy Saturday. For this reason, you’ve barely put any effort into looking the least bit presentable, especially since you’re just floating about the mall. So there you are, no makeup on and looking a bit like a trash panda, browsing the racks of underwear in Victoria’s Secret. Surely, there’s no way this could end badly, you’re just having a day to yourself. 

After checking out, pleased with your three new sets - one black lacy pair, two burgundy ones with rhinestones to match one of your bras back in your dorm - you shuffle over to the exit, itching to get back to your bed and sleep the headache off. 

As you pass through the sliding doors, a wave of fresh air hitting you in the face, you hear your name called out from behind. 

“Hey.” You turn your head, sure you’re imagining it. If only. Your eyes widen, jaw slackening and a furious blush burning on your cheeks. Eren raises an eyebrow and smiles. “Got anything cute in there?” Eren asks in that too-innocent way he always does. 

“Go away,” you mutter and continue to the bus stop. You don’t deign to look at his face, more so in case he notices your zombie-ish state. Maybe ‘shame’ just isn’t a thing to him. 

“You know, just because we hate each other doesn’t mean we can’t act normal around our friends. We’re in the same friend group, so there’s no avoiding it.” Annoyingly enough, he’s right. Since Jean’s highschool friends are sophomores and Connies’ already gotten all chummy with them, Sasha and yourself usually end up sitting with them at lunch. Not that you mind, they’re cool. Except the boy walking at your side. He’s a pain in the ass. 

“Well they’re not here, are they? So…there’s no reason for us to be talking.” 

You catch Eren smirk out of the corner of your eye. “You’re right - I suppose there wasn’t much talking yesterday night at the bar.” Your blood scorches in your veins. How a person can trigger such anger in you is beyond comprehension. But before you can tell him to piss off, he turns and saunters off to the parking lot and throws a coy “see you around,” over his shoulder. 

-

It’s already four by the time you make it back to your dorm and fall onto your bed. Sasha squeals from her desk when she catches sight of your shopping bags. “Ohh! What’d you buy? Gimme a haul! Their stuff is the cutest.” 

You keep your face pressed against your mattress, but point to the bag now resting at the foot of your bed. “Knock yourself out. I’ll give you a try on the next time we drink. Aka never again.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me. I feel like hell,” she moans. “Unfortunately, we both know it’ll happen next week again.”

“Don’t I know it,” you sigh, already settling back into a nap. Hopefully, you can refrain from making any more colossally shitty decisions under the influence. He was the eager one, if anything! Whatever. Just thinking about it left your brain aching. But if that was the case, then why did he spark such a pleasant buzz inside you every time he crossed your mind?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! Get ready for angst and pain! Cause we all love it!


	9. About That Break

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote some of this on my phone on the bus hehe 🥴so some of the grammar could but shit?? idk idk I hate proof reading. Sorry if this one's short!! It's mostly a set up for future chapters.

The rest of the weekend had passed in a haze of sleeping, studying, eating, repeat. Even when Sasha tried her very best to make you go to the party everyone else was going to on Saturday, you wouldn’t budge. Still mildly mortified from Friday, you duck discreetly inside the classroom for Monday lit. Hopefully, Eren isn’t there yet. As you turn up the tiered rows of seats, you do a quick scan of the room - no Eren. So far. You take your seat next to Annie, who offers up a small smile. 

The sound of Erwin’s voice hushes up any conversation around you, signalling the start of class. “Alright, let’s begin.”

“Sorry I’m late,” Eren says as the doors open loudly. You crane your neck along with everyone else, and there he is, walking up to the desk behind yours. He doesn’t even look at you, like he normally does. Instead, his eyes are dull and empty. Not a hint of those encapsulating, teal eyes of his.

“That’s alright Mr. Yeager, I understand your situation.” What situation? Was he late now for the same reason he skipped an entire week of classes a while ago? “Just take your seat and we’ll begin, as I was saying.”

Not wanting to disrupt the class or miss out on the lecture, you decide to corner him after class. He never did give you an explanation as to why he missed those classes, and something about the way his eyes seem so flat… it worries you.

Erwin lectures on about Jane Austen’s ‘Emma’ and the final assignment set for the analysis of it. There’s only five minutes left until lunch, but you’re more on edge than usual. This whole class, you’ve been scribbling and doodling, cracking your knuckles and letting your eyes wander around the room. Annie even hissed for you to ‘calm the fuck down’. But you couldn’t. Not when Eren, always a smug glint in his eye, now sits behind you without having tapped your shoulder to bug you even once.

Finally Erwin wraps up the class: “That is all for today, I just want to remind you of the upcoming break after next week.” With that he dismisses you, but before you can even gather your notebooks, Eren’s chair scrapes harshly against the floor, and he’s on his way out. 

Scrambling to get your shit together, you jog out of the classroom, eyes searching the crowded hallway frantically. You catch him only a couple feet away. “Eren!” You shout over the bustle, but he doesn’t show any sign of having heard you. You try again, this time shoving between people to catch up to him. “God damn it Eren, stop!” 

You’re close enough to grip his elbow, and at last he turns his head. A lapse of silence passes, neither of you speaking, Eren not even meeting your eye. Yet he doesn’t try to pull away from your grip. You open your mouth to say something, anything, but the words never form. 

“Hey you two! Come on, it’s Pizza in the cafeteria,” Reiner’s bulky form startles you as him and Jean approach you. 

“Yeah, we were just coming,” Eren says. Like his eyes, his voice is monotone and raspy, like he hasn’t spoken a word in ten years. He starts walking, Reiner chatting idly next to him. Jean, who falls back with you, seems to pick up on whatever is wrong with Eren, too. 

“What’s up with him?” 

“Your guess is as good as mine. I was trying to ask him, but then you and Reiner butted in. Jean grimaces, and rubs his neck. 

“Sorry. Yeah, he seemed out of it at the party on Saturday, too.” Could it be that you were too callous the last time you spoke? It couldn’t, he’s the type to flirt back or shrug it off. What might have happened in between then and the party? He seemed his usual self at the mall… 

You’re torn from your train of thought as you enter the cafeteria, getting in line next to Sasha, Connie, Bertolt and the others. Namely Ymir, Historia, Mikasa, Armin and Annie, who somehow got there before you. That’s the gang. Already, you’re close to everyone. With the one teensy exception of Eren, who walks broodingly to your usual table at the back. 

Once everyone’s got their pizza, sat down and the easy conversation starts up, you set your piercing gaze on Eren. He WOULD meet your eye. 

A couple seconds pass. Still, nothing. The guy just pokes at his food and adds the occasional remark in whatever one-sided discussion seems to be having with him. 

“Okay guys,” Reiner speaks to the whole group now. October breaks’ coming up. I was talking to Historia here-” he points a thumb to Historia, “and her family isn’t using their Cabin over in Aspen this year.”

“Yeah,” Historia’s sweet voice chirps in. “We usually ski there every year, but I was able to convince them to let me bring my friends instead!” SKIING?!

“Hold up. I’ve seen snow like, twice. I only just moved here for College,” you blurt out. Historia giggles in that high pitched voice. 

“Oh, no. We’re not skiing - half of these idiots can barely ice skate, let alone ski,” she informs you and gestures around the table. 

“Hey!” Connie and Jean chime in. Ymir merely nods in agreement with Historia. You let your breath whoosh out of your lungs, because learning to ski really wasn’t really up at the top of your bucket list. 

“Thank god,” you sigh. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch it. The smallest curve of his lips. He rolls his eyes, too. “You got something to say, Eren?” You challenge. 

He looks up then, probably surprised he wasn’t as smooth as he thought. “Not at all. Why? You need a skiing teacher? I’ll gladly help.” And there it was, the smirking, swaggering nuisance was back. 

The plan unfolds around you, some sort of cabin trip from what you can gather, but you’re barely paying attention. This time, the silent eye contact between you and Eren isn’t like back in the hallway: He’s got a stupid, smug grin plastered across his face. Your own face is scrunched up in annoyance. Although secretly, you’re a teeny weeny bit relieved. Seeing him so… lifeless today had your chest churning. On a strictly microscopic scale, that is. 

-

After lunch you all split up for whatever classes come next, Sasha hanging back to your dorm as neither of you have any classes left. The two of you dive right into planning what outfits to pack and (mostly from Sasha’s side) what food to bring. At the back of your head, you’re bothered about Eren coming, even dreading the trip a little. He just gets on every single nerve in your body. A quiet voice in your chaotic brain emphasises EVERY nerve, especially after last Friday. But that was a one time thing. You weren’t about to let some boy ruin your October break.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What happens in the ski cabin, stays in the ski cabin... Right? 😈😈


	10. Arrival

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SORRY it's been like two weeks - I'm drowning in school. If there was an emoji with dark bags and a twitching eye, i'd put it here. Anyways, this ones kinda long to make it up to u :)
> 
> OH AND WE HAVE HIT CHAPTER 10. u know what that means ;)) if you've read the tags

“Wake up! Hey, wake up! It’s the first day of break!” Is what echoes and rings in your skull first thing on a Saturday morning - at seven AM. 

“Come on, get up and pack already!” Sasha, your beloved roommate can sometimes be a bit overbearing. Although, now that you’re thinking about it, you can’t blame her. It’s October break. The steadily decreasing temperature the past week had only served as a reminder that Aspen is even colder this time of year, although fluffy thick snow might be a nice change from rainy Seattle. 

Suddenly, you feel a wave of cold wash over your bare legs and arms. Sasha, having pulled back your covers hits you in the face with a pillow. “For the last time wake up!” she yells loud enough for half the city to hear. 

“Alright, alright!” You laugh and pull yourself up into a sitting position. You’re only wearing an old shirt and underwear, but you’re already closer to Sasha than any other friend back in high school. 

“The bus leaves from the station in two hours, and we need to have packed, eaten breakfast AND stopped for travel snacks on the way in that time,” Sasha says as she rushes around the room frantically. She did have a point though - it just kinda sucked that the bus ride was so long, thus the early wake up call. 

“I’m sure Connies’ fixed snacks for you already. You know how he is, the early bird. Anyway, I’m going to take a quick shower, and then be back to pack. Can I use your shaving cream?” you ask. 

Sasha raises an eyebrow. “You do know Aspen is like… super cold, right? You don’t need to worry about shaving, it’s not like there’s a beach anywhere nearby the cabin.”

You redden, brain working to make up some excuse. Why were you worried about shaving anyway? Whatever. “Uh, there’s a hot tub at the cabin.” Sasha’s eyes light up.

“Right! Totally slipped my mind. Though I might not even bother, it’ll be so cold when you get out!”

“You’ve got a point. But imagine drinking in a hot tub and gossiping with the other girls! It’ll be fun.” 

Sasha hums while she makes up her mind. Finally, she grabs a navy two piece with avocados all over it. Typical Sasha. 

“Alright, be right back,” you call over your shoulder and head down the hallway to the showers. 

-

After a hot shower and shave you are at last in the right headspace to get excited over the coming five days. Thankful no skiing is to be involved, you think and smile to yourself, zipping up your suitcase. 

Sasha is stuffing snacks Connie had been kind enough to buy her into her carry on when you wheel your luggage out into the parking lot. Armin had been smart enough to call three cabs to take you to the station so that you wouldn’t have to lug the heavy bags all the way through town. Everyone else seems to have squeezed into the cars, so you head for the last one with free seats for Sasha and yourself. 

After heaving your (quite overpacked) suitcase into the already crammed boot you open the car door to slide into the backseat. Jean is seated in the middle, Sasha having just hopped into the passenger seat, and just your luck - Eren is seated next to Jean on the other side of the backseat. 

“Aren’t you a ray of sunshine,” he rolls his eyes. 

“Careful, she’ll cook up a storm if you keep bugging her like that,” Jean mutters under his breath. You keep your grumbling quiet, reminding yourself that it’s just ten minutes until you reach the station as the cab takes off.

Eren and Jean joke in their annoying guy-way while Sasha naps, and finally you watch the two cabs in front of you pull onto the side of the road where the bus is bound to arrive in a couple of minutes. Jean shakes Sasha awake while you and Eren slip out of the car, both with the same idea of grabbing your luggage.  
You both reach for the handle to the boot, fingers grazing for a moment before you pull away as if his hand had burned you. You look up at him and mirror his scowl, before he opens up the compartment. Mikasa’s bag has been squished in there as well, so you watch as Eren unloads everyone’s bags. Except for yours. 

You look at him incredulously, to which he only puts on a mock innocent expression, picks his and Mikasa’s bags up off the ground and walks off to her. As if!

You haul your lone suitcase from the back of the boot and try not to stomp on your way over to the others. You try to squeeze yourself in under the little shelter while Reiner and Historia go to pick up the tickets, as it’s started to pelt down rain. “How long until the bus gets here?” You ask a shivering Bertolt. 

He checks his phone for the time and says, “Actually, right about...now,” he trails off and turns around as you hear the coach pull up. It looks so nice and toasty inside, all you want it to sit down, plug in your earphones and sleep through the journey. 

“Exciting!” Historia cheers as she runs back from the ticket dispenser, Reiner jogging behind. Your friend group finishes up stuffing all the luggage in the large bus compartment, filing into the bus. There’s no one else on it your age and the few families there are all seated toward the front, so you take up the rear. 

When the engine finally rumbles to life and sets its course, you’re seated by the window next to Annie, who’s opted for the same thing as you - music, hood up, chill. 

That is, until an arm reaches around your seat and pulls out one of your ear buds. You’ve GOT to be kidding. You sigh, already aware of who it is. “The booster seats are up front.”

“Oh, don’t be so grumpy,” Eren chides and pokes his head around the gap between the window and your own head. You frown and push his head away half-heartedly, to which he chuckles. “What are you listening to?”

“Noise cancelling frequency waves if you don’t fuck off back to your seat,” you say sarcastically. 

“Ouch. I’ll remember that when we decide who gets to be in charge of music at the cabin,” he warns and sits back down. 

God, this is going to be a long journey.

-

Something is tickling your nose. You’re fairly sure you slept a good while, as your eyes are heavy and your voice groggy when you let out an annoyed grunt. There it is again - a little flick on the tip of your nose. You open your eyes, finding a veiny hand flicking the tip of a hoodie drawstring on your nose. Oh, and Eren’s grinning face in the window’s reflection. Which brings your attention to the fact that the snowy mountains and little ski resort ahead isn’t moving. You’ve reached your destination. “Cut it out!” You hiss at Eren as he tickles your nose once more.

“Come on. We’re here,” he says and stands up, joining the now bustling coach. 

The twelve of you shuffle out of the bus, most of you still half asleep, and grab your baggage in the commotion of the other families. You haul your case forward a couple metres, to right before the icy road slopes down into the large skiing valley-resort-village type thing. Ymir comes up next to you. “I’ve been to the cabin once before, it’s a little more removed. Right around that bend-” she gestures to the right, where the mountain enclosing the wintery valley evens out and opens up to reveal a view over not only the slopes, but the mountains stretching out as far as the eye can see. Wow. It was gorgeous. Probably even more beautiful in the light of day. 

You wait for everyone to collect their things, the other passengers having started their downward hike, and behind trudging through the snow to the crest of the cliff. 

-

Sweating, panting, absolutely exhausted, your body sags as you all reach Historia’s lodge. Well, now that you can really see it, it’s more than a cabin. Her parents must be loaded. It’s rather large, nestled so that the westernmost side is facing the valley and the rest of the house overlooks the magnificent view. 

Jean lets out a low whistle of appreciation. “This is going to be great. Make sure to thank your parents for us, Historia.” The rest of you quickly chime in to agree.

“That’s great! Come on, let’s go inside. I’m freezing and it’s pretty late. I’m thinking we make something fast for a late dinner and then head to bed?” Historia says and leads you guys up the wooden stairs and the front door. 

Once you’ve all complained about carrying your luggage up the porch and she finally unlocks the door, a wave of toasty heat hits you as you step inside. “Oooh, it's so nice in here! And warm!” Sasha stares wide-eyed at the interior. Yours and everyone else's jaws are slack - it’s stunning inside. The walls and flooring are a cozy warm wood and the spacious entry forks out into two sides of the house: to the right is the kitchen and a door leading out to one of the balconies. To the left, a couple steps down into a spacious landing is the living area. It’s outfitted with cream sofas and plush cushions, a television mounted over the fireplace facing the large windows where the spectacular view is on display. 

You shrug your shoes and many sweaters off before stepping down into the living area. Then, you notice the L-shaped staircase that presumably leads up to the bedrooms and other stuff. That prompts you to ask: “Hey Historia, what are the sleeping arrangements?”

Everyone, having slumped onto the couches, turn their heads to Historia. “Well, I was thinking we could draw sticks or something! It would be fun to go outside of your comfort zone, right?” she suggests and smiles at Ymir. 

Who, not looking too pleased with this looks over to Reiner as if to say: ‘end up in a room with her, and you’re dead.’

Armin butts in then. “I think Siri on my phone should be able to randomise us, let me just feed in all the names…” 

After a couple seconds of more ‘oohh's and aahh's’ at the view, he announces that he’s done. “Okay, the first pair is Jean and Mikasa.” Mikasa groans quietly and rolls her eyes as Jean smirks at her from across the room. “Next, Bertholdt and Annie, then Reiner with me, Connie and Sasha together-” the two exchange a mischievous glance, “Ymir with Historia and… the last one’s pretty self explanatory.” Ymir throws an arm around Historia who’s blushing.

You however, not so much. In fact, your eyes are probably bugging out of your head. It had to be rigged… there’s no way fate would be so cruel to you. You catch Jean out of the corner of your eye trying to hold in his laughter, so you throw him a murderous glare. That shuts him up. 

Next, you glance at Eren. Which you immediately regret, because the smug bastard is smirking at you discreetly as if he found this whole situation funny. No - you wouldn’t let him see you all worked up. Instead, you raise an eyebrow in challenge. He mirrors your expression with crossed arms. 

“Bedrooms are up for grabs! Just don’t get hurt in the process!” Ymir announces before you can actually murder someone, and Connie leads the way as everyone scrambles up stairs for a good bedroom. 

You make it up just before Mikasa, Eren and Annie, but both Annie and Mikasa’s sleeping partners have called dibs on a bedroom already. Leaving one left. Sighing, you make it to the door at the end of the hallway. You peek into the other bedrooms on your way, so when you enter yours, it takes you a moment to figure it out. Why did no one want this one? It’s got an en-suite bathroom and a balcony! When you look over to the bed, it hits you. THE bed. As in one singular bed. A queen sized one at that, but it doesn’t look like you can split it into two singles. Fabulous.

You had noticed Ymir and Historia’s room, which also had a double bed, except that made sense because… well. It’s no secret that they have a thing for one another. But this is unbelievable. Just your luck, too. Oh well. You aren’t in any mood to argue and looking on the bright side, you’ve got a fun five days ahead of you that won’t be overshadowed by annoying sleeping arrangements.

Just then, Eren walks in and leans against the doorway. “If you wanted me to fuck you, you should have just said so.” 

You flush at his bluntness, but gather your composure quickly. “It was the only one left, asshole. But don’t worry, I’ll throw you a pillow when you settle into the bathtub.”

“I’m not sleeping in the bathtub,” he snorts and starts inspecting the room. He strokes his fingertips over the velvet comforter, the matching pillows and then goes over to pull closed the heavy curtains. 

“Well, neither am I. So you're just going to have to take one for the team,” you grind out. No way was he sleeping in the bed with you. 

“No can do, sweetheart. Try not to steal the covers, will you?” he teases as he heads for the bathroom. A minute later you hear the tap running, and what sounds like teeth being brushed. 

“You’re not eating with the others?” you say mid-stomp toward the ajar bathroom door. 

“Tired,” he manages out with a mouthful of toothpaste. And there you were, hoping to skip dinner and fall asleep before Eren returned. Some plan.

You watch for another moment, and he looks at you through the mirror, raising his eyebrows. Right. You were probably staring. You shake your head to clear it of the billion thoughts pinging around in it and head downstairs to fetch your suitcase. 

Annie, stronger than superman himself, helps carry it upstairs to your room and dumps it next to Erens by the doorway. You thank her and bid her goodnight, before shutting the door behind you. 

You hear the sheets rustle, and notice Eren slipping into them while you head to the bathroom to brush your own teeth. Immediately, you avert your eyes and blush once again (that’s a new habit from out of nowhere) as you notice he’s only got on flannel pyjama pants, his hair still tied back loosely and his lean abs on display. Hopefully the sheets don’t get too hot tonight. 

After washing your face and brushing your teeth, you exit the bathroom. The room is pitch black, which you’re thankful for as you only packed… skimpy pyjamas. You had planned on sleeping next to Sasha or Annie!

As you tip-toe to the bed and settle in, Eren turns toward you. “Goodnight”, he mumbles with his eyes closed in a sleepy sort of voice that stirs an odd feeling in your chest. 

“Whatever,” you mutter and drift into the realm of sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> headcanon #2: Eren has frequent nightmares. Just you wait. 
> 
> Anyways, hopefully I'll update in the next week?? Maybe later tonight if I feel i n s p i r e d ??


	11. Icy Truth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluff? Angst? A bit of both? Yeah. Also, I wrote this on a seven hour bus ride to a skiing place (yes, my friends and I are also skiing. What a coincidence). Enjoy ;)

The sun streams into the bedroom in blinding rays as you stand by the large window and look out to the snow-capped mountains. “Ugh, close the damn curtains,” Eren groans in a voice still thick with sleep. 

“No can do. It’s already eleven, and I think Armin is making pancakes downstairs.” He perks up at this, though when he pushes himself into a sitting position you notice the dark circles under his eyes. “Sleep well?” you mock. 

He only looks away with a bitter expression. Clearly not a morning person. “Well. Get your ass down in five,” you say and have to make a conscious effort not to ogle his abs as you walk out. 

Despite the chill outside, the heating inside the cabin is rich person grade, so you’re fine in an oversized hoodie that reaches below your thin pyjama shorts. The warm wooden floor of the kitchen greets you as you walk in, the room teeming with morning conversation and laughter. The mouth-watering aroma of pancakes fills the air, and you slump down into a chair at the large circular table behind the kitchen counters. 

“Good morning,” Reiner calls from the stove where he’s helping flip the pancakes, a much too small apron stretched across his broad chest. It looks kinda funny, in a cute way - you never imagined seeing Reiner flipping pancakes with Armin.

“Morning,” you counter back, and watch as the others take their spots around the table that’s been laid out with jam, Nutella, whipped cream and a couple different juice options. Sasha is most definitely drooling, her eyes transfixed on the steaming dish of food that Armin places in the centre of the table. 

He sits down, but frowns. “Where’s Eren? I don’t want to start without him.” 

“I think he’s asleep-” you start before Eren himself cuts you off.

“Right here,” he says in a cheery voice far from what he sounded like when the two of you woke up. Strange.

As soon as he slips into his chair next to Jean, Armin gives you all permission to dig in. Sasha snatches up the Nutella like a starving lion, and you giggle with Connie over her antics. 

-

Breakfast was great, and you tuck away the fact that Armin is one of THE best cooks in your friend group. Maybe you’d force him and Connie to have a cook-off. Sasha would enjoy that. 

But now you all sit on the couches, Sasha strewn across the floor in a food coma. “So,” Historia announces. “We’ve got loads of board games downstairs, but I think we should go out in the snow for a bit first! How does that sound guys?” 

Ymir glares around the room, daring anyone to disagree with Historia, but there was no need. It was a gorgeous day, and your good night of sleep had filled you up with enough energy to go outside. 

“Let’s go sledding!” Connie and Sasha cheer and make a break for the hall. The rest of you follow, giving in to a day of childish, well deserved fun after a stressful half term in school. 

-

Everyone is all bundled up in coats and scarves and hats and gloves, and Historia leads the group to a small, flat clearing halfway down the steep cliff the house is perched upon. The thick snow covering the ground and pine trees is pristine and clean, glittering under the brilliant sun. 

Sasha, Connie, Jean and Bertolt immediately make for a swirling little hill that stops at yet another clearing further down the mountain, and as soon as they take off laughing and screaming, an idea hatches in your head. You can tell you aren’t the only one thinking it, because suddenly the rest of you go tense - still as mountain lions watching their prey. 

The first act of war is by Annie, who crouches down within a millisecond and launches a round fat snowball at Mikasa. Her cat-like reflexes allow her to duck in time, but she releases a battle cry and everything descends into chaos. Fistfuls of snow fly here and there, left and right, and you even manage to land a hit on Reiner’s massive back (not that he’s a difficult target for that precise reason).

Armin launches a ball of snow at you which you notice at the last moment, able to duck just in time. You straighten out, smiling smugly at him and about to tell him better luck next time. Only, the words never go past your lips because out of nowhere, a freezing cold chunk of snow smacks you square in the face. You stand there for a second, stupefied. Slowly, you turn your head to see Eren across the clearing, the most shit-eating grin you’ve ever seen plastered across his face and another snowball in hand ready to go. “Why you little-!” you yell and launch yourself at him. 

You sprint to where he’s standing by the edge of the pine forest in no time, and having scooped up fistfuls of snow on the way, tackle him to the ground while rubbing it all in his face. He lets out a hearty laugh, as if you’re a child attacking a grown adult with a pillow. Your blood boiling at his self satisfied expression, you try to pick up another handful of snow. But the moment you let your grip on him slacken, he seizes his opportunity. 

In a split second, he’s latched his arms around you, flipping you over and pressing your body into the soft snow. His weight has you pinned although not crushed, one gloved hand capturing your wrists while the other stuffs icy snow down your jacket. 

“Ah! Stop!” you squeal and try to worm your way out of his grip. Which happens to be iron, so your efforts quickly become futile.

“That’s what you get for depriving me of my beauty sleep,” he pants. 

“Not my fault you’re a grumpy grouch in the morning!” You yell over the distant noise of the ongoing battle over in the clearing. Which, you realise with burning cheeks, is a good ten metres away. The two of you have somehow managed to roll out into the densely packed pine tree forest, given light only by the bright snow beneath you. 

His nose is practically touching yours, and the acute awareness of this replaces your prior irritation with embarrassment and sudden shyness. That wasn’t like you. 

Eren raises an eyebrow in question. “Round two?” 

Your brain fries completely when he says this. ROUND TWO?? AS IN PICKING UP WHERE YOU LEFT OFF AT THE BAR?

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he says between heavy breaths of exertion. You nearly die on the spot, unable to form words, but he doesn’t go in to kiss you. No, he releases you for only a couple of seconds to gather a bunch of snow, and then drops it on your face. 

If your face wasn’t already about to fall off from frostbite, it was now. Too angry to kick yourself for thinking he meant a different kind of round two, you take advantage of his hysterical laughing and squeeze yourself out from under him. 

He’s still clutching his stomach from laughter, so you seize the moment by gathering a heap of snow and stuffing it right down the back of his jacket. Now it's your turn to laugh, and you roll onto your back one the ground as you watch his expression freeze up like the ice in his shirt. He turns to you angrily, but instead of attacking you, he merely scoops you up from the white forest floor, throws you over his back and marches back to the clearing.

Sasha, Connie, Bertolt and Jean are back from their sledding and everyone else bursts into laughter at the sight of you and Eren. While Eren is smiling triumphantly, you’ve got a sour expression on your face as he announces: “Let’s head back to the cabin, we’ve had enough of snow for the next ten years.” We, as in Eren and yourself. It startles you, because you’ve never heard him address you like that before. It sounds odd. Definitely not bad, just… odd.

-

Though you pounded on his back the entire way home, Eren insisted on carrying you as if you were a grumpy child. Which, looking back on it, you probably were. But it’s already darkening once you all make it back to the cabin, manage to peel off your soaked jackets and gather in the living room. 

Historia and Bertolt hand out hot chocolate, which you content yourself to sip slowly in silence with. After you’ve all had the chance to wind down and warm up a little, Mikasa pipes up. “Historia, didn’t you say there was a game room in the basement?”

Everyone perks up a little at this. “Yeah! We’ve got tonnes of stuff: Uno, Kalaha, Monopoly-”

“Ooh, don’t get that out, Eren gets a little competitive,” Jean warns, to Eren’s irritation. 

“Actually, I think that sounds like a great idea,” you chime in and look at Eren challengingly. You’re known to get competitive too, and aren’t afraid to absolutely crush him. 

“On second thought,” Eren says, “I agree.”

“Then it’s settled,” Ymir says with finality and stands up to go downstairs. The rest of you follow excitedly, and not having explored the basement upon arrival, gasp at the sight of it. It’s large and airy but still cozy with its wooden tones. To the left is a mini-bar stocked with a myriad of funky liqueurs, to the right another couch set and television. In the centre is a round coffee table just high enough to play games around, and there’s a pool table behind the couches with a great crystal chandelier hanging above it. 

Everyone collectively looks at the extensive alcohol collection, then back to Historia and Ymir. “Knock yourselves out,” Historia giggles. 

The boys yelp and cheer, and all of you make your way to the bar to make drinks. Sasha and Connie make some poisonous-looking concoction of drinks, while most people opt for the fine bottle of whiskey Reiner scores from the back of a cabinet. 

Once everyone has their glasses ready and are sat down by the round table, and Mikasa has brought out the Monopoly. There aren’t enough tokens for everyone, so half of you end up using random obscure objects from around the house - Annie and Reiner play as coins from Historia’s parent’s coin collection (turns out there’s a lot of unusual rick person stuff lying around), etc. 

To make the game more interesting, everyone takes a sip every time they land on a street as well as paying the rent, so people are quickly becoming tipsy. Connie is just straight up drunk, he’s so terrible at Monopoly that not even five rounds in, he’s bankrupt from landing on Eren and your streets. Both of which dominate the board, to everyone’s dismay. You’ve just managed to skip past one of Eren’s death traps of a street collection when he slurs out: “This is fucking dumb! You should have landed on it this time, you’re cheating!” You look at him incredulously, also struggling forming words because of the sticky whiskey glaze that’s seeped into your head. 

“Me? Cheat!? You’re just a sore loser!” You scream back. Your friends are all doubling over in laughter - most of them have dropped out of the game anyways as it’s clear they stand no chance of winning against either you nor Eren. 

“Oh, calm down and just admit you fancy each other,” Ymir says, her voice shaking with laughter. Everyone else howls in agreement, but you just grind your teeth together and stand up to leave. Unfortunately, the alcohol in your body seems to disagree. While stepping between the two couches, your lack of balance aids you in falling sideways, right over the arm of the couch Eren is sitting. Right where he’s sitting. 

The world spins and shifts a little, but once you regain most of your bearings you look up to find a grinning Eren staring down at you, as you lay with your ass pressed right into his crotch and your hands gripping the front of his shirt. You have the decency to blush fiercely, but before you can yell at him for laughing, the world once again slips out from under you as he wraps his strong arms around your torso, hoists you upward and stands up. 

“What are you doing! Let me go!” You try to bang your fists on his chest but he’s got your arms pinned, much like earlier out in the snow. 

“Taking you upstairs,” he smiles stupidly as he carries you toward the stairs, much to your friend groups pleasure - Reiner even pats Eren’s back as a gesture of good luck. Oh, he’d need it once he put you down - you would kick him in the balls so hard he’d be sterile for life. 

When you get to the living room, you expect Eren to put you down on the couch or something, but he continues up the staircase. You grumble drunkenly all the way to your bedroom, where he finally dumps you on the plush bed. “All you want is to get in my pants,” you accuse, still too dizzy to sit up properly. 

“By the way you just so happened to land with your ass right over my dick earlier, one might think the opposite is true.”

“You know what? You’re impossible. One second you’re scowling at me like a five year old, the next you’re throwing me dirty comments!” you yell from the bed as you watch him pace in front of you.

“Well maybe it wouldn’t be that way if you weren’t absolutely infuriating. You know you do this thing where you just switch up your mood in two seconds? Drives me nuts!” he’s gesturing with his arms wildly now. Who does he think he is? He’s known you for two months, BARELY!

“Yeah? Well you just completely disappear for a week to god-knows-where, and then don’t even want to tell me where!” You’ve managed to stand up to face him, but he still towers over you.

A bitter look crosses over his face. “Don’t fucking start.” Finally, you seem to have found a nerve you can pull at. 

“Why did you leave? Professor Erwin was all weird about it, too. You do drugs or something? Alcoholism?” He doesn’t even meet your eye - he’s looking off to the floor, fists clenched and breathing very hard. You wallow in it, the feeling of eliciting a reaction like this from him. It makes you even more drunk, drunk on power and emotion. When he says nothing, your pent up anger overflows. “Answer me!”

Slowly, he lifts his gaze off the floor until it meets yours. In his eyes, in those beautiful emerald eyes, are tears that glint in the moonlight spilling in through the windows. “Something like that,” he whispers out into the darkness and the gaping silence between you. 

Your eyes widen, and you realise you’ve crossed a line. He looks hurt, like a whipped deer and all you want is to patch him up. But you can only stand there, rooted in place out of the harrowing realisation that you really, really hurt him this time. Your heart churns and twists until tears of your own reflect the ones rolling down his pale cheeks. 

Anyone else might have passed this off for drunk crying, but you can tell, through all your hatred toward each other, that this is a different wound entirely. One that you’ve ripped open at the healing seams. 

“Eren,” your voice cracks even in a whisper. He’s hung his head, completely and utterly defeated. Your heart cannot take it anymore, this dull ache, and you step forward slowly to reach your hands out. At first they only graze his arms, but when he once again looks up and your eyes interlock, you pull him against your chest. It’s more like you’re against his, thanks to the height difference, but still you wrap your arms around him and let his head rest against the crook of your neck. Slowly but surely, his own limp arms encircle you, and for a long time you stand there together. His body tremors softly following salty tears that mingle with your own, but you let them fall.

“I’m sorry,” Is all you say. 

He lets the words hang heavy and loaded in the air, so you tug him gently to the bed where you lay on your back. You pat the soft comforter, and he slumps down in between your legs, so that his head is resting against your stomach and his hands folded underneath. It isn’t even awkward, and you don’t think it would be even without the whiskey haze that is slowly eddying away from you. 

Together you lay there, silently exhaling the words you have longed to speak for a while now. And you don’t dare break that silence, or break the fragile shell that’s settled over your relationship - whatever it is. The embrace is an apology in itself, and you fall asleep like that; limbs tangled together like wild vines, breaths intermingling in the dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've started writing a hella explicit scene, and it'll be right at the start of the next chapter. Which, knowing me, I'll plan on uploading tomorrow but procrastinate until Thursday. Anyway. Your support is so heartwarming, i love you guys!!


	12. Midnight Heat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll say this once - SMUT FREAKING WARNING. Kinda long?? idk. But I am officially in the sin bin. Also!! Here's some songs to queue while u read this ;)
> 
> 1\. After Hours by the Weeknd  
> 2\. Breakup Business by Phlake  
> 3\. Streets by Doja Cat  
> 4\. Devil's Advocate by The Neighbourhood

The room is still pitch-black when you wake. A warm weight is pressed against you, so you look down and find the source of your awakening. Eren has his scrunched up face pressed into your stomach, and cold sweat runs down his forehead. He’s got an arm out as if he’s trying to grasp something. It’s obvious he’s having a nightmare, but you don’t want to wake him up for fear that it will make it even worse. Suddenly, he yells out in a raw voice.

“No!” His eyes fly open, and he’s breathing heavily. 

“It’s okay, you’re okay Eren,” you try to soothe and trace little circles on his shoulder. He rasps your name as he comes out of his daze, and looks around until he can focus on your face. 

“Sorry,” he says. 

“Why are you apologising? You’re okay now, the nightmare wasn’t real. This is real,” you assure him. He slips out of your arms and leans against the headboard, running his hands through his unbound hair. 

“It’s just… ” he begins, gaze darting around the room as if it would help him find words. 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“My mother. Her name was Carla and she was beautiful, same dark hair as me.” 

“Does narcissism run in the family too?” He lets out a laugh through his nose, and then pauses to take a breath. You try to smile comfortingly, hoping his eyes are adjusted to the dark. He takes it as a cue to go on. 

“A couple summers ago she was driving with me in the car. It was dark out, late in the evening and we were on our way home when a drunk driver swerved onto our lane. It happened so fast, it’s all a little fuzzy. The next thing I knew, I was under the harsh light of a hospital room. The doctors broke the news right away.”

Your heart clenches at his words and the way the pain of the memory is displayed so clearly across his features. “Eren, it wasn’t your fault.” It seems like the best thing to say. You wouldn’t want anyone’s pity if you were him, anyway. 

“Turns out he was an alcoholic. There’s no undoing it, but I get nightmares about it. Often. It’ll be over soon.”

That must be why he was so cranky the first morning here, and you realise the smiley demeanor that he walked into the kitchen with was probably because nobody else knows. About the nightmares, you mean. 

His eyes have a glassed-over faraway look, so you stand on your knees and hug him tight to distract him. For a moment he doesn’t make a move, but slowly he reciprocates. The pillows and covers are strewn across the bottom of the bed, and your cocoon of solace and warmth stays sealed shut as the two of you lay down properly. 

A couple minutes pass before you crane your neck down to check if Eren is back asleep. He’s not, because he catches you peeking and one corner of his mouth lifts. His gaze drifts down shyly to your stomach. Everyone has been wearing sweats or pj’s while in the cabin anyway, so while Eren is clad in grey sweatpants and a hoodie, you’re wearing soft shorts and a loose cotton top. 

Issue is, the thin material has ridden up nicely to expose your bare stomach, which Eren is now eye-fucking. He knows you’re aware of the sudden heat pressing into the room, made worse when his slender, calloused hands run along your ribs. 

“You’re intoxicating to me,” he murmurs and kisses the spots his fingers rove over. “I don’t know what it is, or if you know when you’re doing it,” you’re totally lost now, mostly from the arousing way his hands scorch against your skin, “but you make me want to be myself. My true self, to lay down every part of me before you.”

He meets your eye now, in question or for affirmation, you have no idea. You just nod, because the man before you can ask anything of you and you’d oblige in a heartbeat and he doesn’t even know it. But you have, for a while now. So you grab hold of his wrists - although it takes a while to gather the strength to - and pull them up to your face. He catches on and cups your cheeks, crawling up the bed so that finally he’s hovering right above you, elbows on either side of your head. 

Your breaths are fast and irregular, yet completely in sync with the rest of your nervous self. 

“Tell me what you want,” he whispers, “and you can have it.”

It takes a moment to process, but the answer comes to you quickly. “Everything,” you breathe. 

In a second his mouth is on yours, tongue sweeping languidly across your lower lip before you open up for him. He deepens the kiss along with his hold on you, one hand on your waist and the other lightly stroking your throat. Heat pools in the pit of your stomach, wetness in your core. You rub your thighs together to alleviate some of the pressure, but he pushes your legs apart, knuckles brushing over your shorts. 

“Only when I say so.” He looks at you sternly. You nod feverishly, not even bothered to get irritated at his bossiness - you like his bossiness. 

His hands continue to roam your body, this time slipping under your top and moving to your breasts. His thumb strokes just below your nipple teasingly, and as soon as you let out a needy whimper, moves up to where you want it. 

He lets out a throaty chuckle at your neediness, but does not falter in his movements. Suddenly he lets go of you completely, but before you can complain at the loss of contact he yanks off his sweater - and yours. A wave of cool air hits your bare chest since you weren’t wearing a bra, and you see Eren’s eyes darken deliciously at the sight of it. 

As for you, you’re stuck looking at his perfectly sculpted torso, and can’t help but reach out to run your fingers along each ridge and dip of muscle. You feel him shiver with pleasure and your hands make a slow descent downward, where you’ve barely had time to grip the hard bulge in his sweats when he clasps his hands around your wrists and push them against the mattress above your head. 

Taken by surprise, you look at him with wide eyes. “Don’t you want me to-?”

“I can suck me off all you want later,” he says through a sultry smile. “But first, I want to make you feel good.” His way of speaking is so blunt, but it somehow ends up sexier for it. Without warning, he takes both wrists in one hand, moves the other to grab your left hip, and roughly flips you over to your stomach. He’s about to tug down your shorts but as his fingers slip below the waistband, he leans forward so that his mouth is right by your face. “You’re sure you want this?”

How much clearer could you be at this point? “If you don’t do something right now, I will scream.”

“That’s the goal,” he responds smugly, and continues to pull down your panties and shorts at the same time. They slip off your feet easily and once they do, his free hand lifts your ass up from the bed in one smooth movement. You feel soft kisses planted on the small of your back while his hand squeezes and roves over your butt. “Your skin is so soft.”

You think you’ll explode soon from lack of relief. “Please, Eren. Please, please, please.” 

He takes his cue and slides one finger into your soaked pussy. He starts off slow, then adds another digit to stretch you out more. 

“Fuck, you’re so ready for me,” he says, the words barely computing in your melted brain. “I like it when you beg. Do it again.”

Under different circumstances - any besides the one where you’re pinned beneath him like this - you might have slapped him for saying that. Only, it turns you on, so who are you to deny him? 

“Fuck me. Please Eren. I need you, now,” you mewl. 

“That’s my girl.” You can practically hear his satisfied grin. “Lift your ass in the air a little higher for me,” he demands. 

You do, and there’s a brief pause and rustle from behind. You realise he’s taking off his sweat pants, which is confirmed when suddenly you feel the head of his stiff cock press against your clit. He drags it along your slick entrance a couple times, teasing you further. Then, with the hand that’s not clasped around your wrists, he grips your hip hard enough to bruise and finally, finally slams forward. 

He fills you up perfectly, although his size stings a little at first. He lets you adjust for a couple seconds, thumb rubbing a circle around the dimples on your lower back, before groaning lowly. 

“Fucking hell. You’re so tight. Is it okay if I start moving?” He asks. Again you are baffled by the gentleness that he manages to speak with right now. 

“Mhm,” you whine. This seems to make the softness of his voice melt right away, replaced with a deep growl as he pulls out a little and then plunges back in with even more power than before. The first few thrusts are slow but rough, and then he picks up the pace. Never in your life has even just the first couple seconds of sex been this good before.

You can feel your orgasm near when he lets go of your wrists, grabs your hips and flips you over while still sheathed deep inside you. Your breath hitches and you’re a little startles, but your airways stop working entirely at the sight of what comes next. One hand on your waist, the other grips the headboard as he slams waves of pleasure into you. 

Your climax is nearer now, like a crouched tiger waiting to spring itself upward. “Don’t stop,” you pant as his breath fans out over the valley between your breasts. You watch as he reaches down to where your bodies connect, but his thumb only just grazes your swollen clit when a loud ring shatters the electricity in the air. 

“What the fuck?” you hear Eren mutter and watch as he picks your cell phone up off the bedside table. He’s stopped moving, much to your disappointment, and you want nothing more than to throw the phone across the room. You look up at his face, surprised to see a slow grin spread across it. Before you can realise what he’s doing he hands you the phone, which he’s answered. 

“Hello?” Sasha’s voice chirps on speaker. Oh God. 

“Yes, Sasha? Now isn’t the best time,” you try to sound as normal as possible, stifling the loud breaths that want to leave you. Unfortunately, this proves practically impossible when Eren, being the devil that he is, starts moving again. You gasp, biting your tongue hard so that you won’t give yourself away. 

“You there? You’re on speaker, by the way. Historia and Armin are asleep tho. We just wanted to say we’re sorry if we made you angry earlier, are you okay?” You can hear Jean and Reiner drunkenly chime in an apology in the background. You want to reply, but Eren starts to pick up speed, and the way his cock rubs against your walls is so good. 

“Y-yeah, I...” you stop mid sentence when Eren’s thumb starts rubbing in circles over your clit. “Thank… Thank y-you,” you stutter out. 

Eren continues to fuck you into the mattress ruthlessly, and you can’t even bring yourself to hang up the phone. 

“You uh, I think you’re cutting out? Bad service down here in the basement maybe?”

“No Sasha, I’m here. Listen, I’m…” You pause and try your best to get out some coherent words. “You woke me up, that’s all. I’llcallyoulaterokaybye,” you hang up the phone and toss it to the floor. 

“Fuck, Eren!” You moan, as you tiptoe the edge of euphoria. 

“Come for me,” he breathes out, and that does it. Your body shudders, waves of pleasure ripping through you. Your eyes roll back and you’re faintly aware of him cumming inside you, but it doesn’t bother you since you’re on birth control. 

After your stupidly intense orgasm starts to eddy away, you’re brought back to reality. Eren slumps down next to you, also breathing heavily. 

“Jesus Christ,” you say. 

“Like that, did you?” his arrogance somehow shines through even now. 

“Yes. I mean no. I mean- you’re an asshole, you know? The morning is going to be so awkward.” He chuckles at that, and you can’t help but join in. 

“Well, you’re not at all bad yourself.” 

“Such a generous compliment, your highness,” you say sarcastically. He snorts, and reaches down to pull the covers over both of you. You’re a little scared he might just turn around and doze off, but a content warmth spreads in your chest when he throws an arm over you and pulls you in by the waist. 

“We’ll deal with it when it comes,” he mutters, and you can already hear his voice fade into drowsiness. 

“Which is like, seven hours away. It’s two am.” He merely hums absently, and you can feel yourself be pulled into sleep with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you read this and know me, you absolutely don't :)


	13. Waking Up On the Right Side of the Bed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fluff and smut for u while I write a longer chapter that might be uploaded somewhere mid march or kinda before that :)

It’s another gorgeous sunny day when you wake up, evident as you forgot to pull down the curtains last night. You’re momentarily blinded by the brightness of the sun, amplified through the crisp snow outside, and let out a groan as you shade your eyes. You try to sit up, but a half asleep Eren yawns loudly and yanks you right back to his side. 

“Come back to bed with me,” he says in that heart-melting morning rasp of his. 

You smile ruefully, but give his chest a little slap. “I know it’s only eight, but the others are probably asleep and I want to get… cleaned up before we all make breakfast.”

He peeks one sea-green eye open to look at you. Then, out of some sudden morning burst of energy, he rolls off the bed in a flash, pulls you toward him by the ankles and hoists you up. You squeal in surprise but wrap your legs tightly around his waist, to which he looks at you and smirks. 

Your cheeks redden as his still cum from mere hours ago acts as a lubricant between the two of you, and you feel his dick harden, rubbing teasingly between your folds that are quickly growing wetter. When he marches you into the bathroom, he sets you down on the counter next to the sink and turns on the tap in the bathtub, which is placed right next to another large window but the view of the deserted mountains allow for total privacy. The absence of his body heat causes goosebumps to erupt across your skin. 

“Bath salts?” he says confusedly after picking up a jar of blue salts. “What’s that?” 

You giggle at his cluelessness and hop off the counter, walking toward him across the cold marble floor that hasn’t had time to heat up yet. You take the jar from him, pop the cork lid and pour a little into the steaming water - just enough so it doesn’t irritate your sensitive areas. You watch as he stands there, transfixed by the swirling, bubbly cerulean water that wafts up a floral scent. 

He gasps like a little child watching a special performance, and you can’t help but relish a little in the moment - it’s tender and simple, unlike every other one shared between the two of you. But only a little, because you’re scared of the future and what could happen. The months of bad blood between you is still a massive question mark - is it gone? Or just waiting to resurface?

“You okay?” Eren’s voice brings you out of your reverie. You nod and offer a gentle smile. Once the hot water has filled the stupidly large tub, he steps into it and sighs as he slides down until the water goes up to his chest. Your nakedness suddenly feels cold and awkward as you just stand there, but you don’t know if you should get in the tub with him or not. Maybe he’s changed his mind and wants you to leave, and-

“What are you doing?” he chuckles softly. “Come here.” A wave of relief washes over you, along with immense satisfaction of the way the hot water feels against your skin once you step in. You settle between his legs, and he rests his arms loosely over your shoulders while the two of you lie there and just breathe. 

After a few moments, his hands begin to rub over your skin, the calluses of his hands smoothened by the soapy water as he traces little shapes and lines across your back. He grabs what must be his body wash off the little indentation in the wall where all your shampoos and shower stuff stand, first rubbing it between his hands and then down your arms, your back, your shoulders and your chest where they linger a bit, caressing gently. 

“Mm…” You lay your head back against his shoulder and gasp as he wanders your body. The air is now filled with the heavenly scent of his body wash, the scent of him: pine and rain, a light and easy smell that assaults your nose and with it brings familiar comfort. 

“Just relax,” he murmurs in your ear as he makes a trail downward. At first his fingers only circle your clit, playing in painfully light sweeps. But as soon as you buck your hips forward in need, he gives in and presses one finger into you, making harder strokes onto your clit. You’re slightly sore from last night, which he must pick up on because he waits until he’s stretched you out a little before he slides another digit in and hums against your hair. “Just like that…you’re so pretty like this, naked and your skin smelling like me…” his free hand moves to grip your face slightly, where he slides a finger across your parted lips and then slipping it inside your mouth. 

You swirl your tongue around it, moaning appreciatively as he continues to pleasure you. You feel your climax building quickly as he moves his long fingers in and out of you, rhythmically and at an agonising pace. At long last he presses his thumb against your bundle of nerves and kisses your shoulder, and you find your release. Your walls clench around his fingers, pleasure rippling through you like the water in the tub does, and your legs shake a little until you start to come down again. 

“The look on your face when you come turns me on,” he says, and you can feel his hard length against your back. You want to return the favour, but before you’re able to mention it he starts to get out of the tub. You’re left sitting in the foam while you watch him dry himself off and wrap a towel daringly low around his hips, droplets of water running down his stomach. 

It reminds you that this isn’t your first encounter in a showering situation. You’re probably staring like a creep, because he smiles and leans against the doorway with his arms crossed. “Like what you see?”

A furious blush blooms across cheeks, but you play it off. “Only the towel around your hips. Hand me one, will you?”

He takes one off the shelf and steps forward, unfolding it and holding it as if waiting for you to get out. You oblige, and he wraps it tightly around you, then sweeps you off the floor and into his arms once again - bridal style.

You let out a yelp of surprise as he walks back into the bedroom, but he’s already plopped you down on the bed and is now moving to the large closet where you’ve both hung your clothes. Again, you’re slightly shocked at his sweetness, and how caring he can be after having practically warred for two months. 

But so far, he’s never given you an opportunity to do something for him. It’s bugged you quite a bit, because you know how it feels to be left hanging- thanks to basically every guy you’ve been with ever. But not Eren. He’s busy rifling through his side of the closet, so you decide to sneak up behind him. 

Careful not to startle him, you run a finger down his spine. He shivers pleasantly, slowly turning around slowly with a smirk on his face. “I want to do something in return,” you say as you look intently into his eyes. 

“By all means. Don’t let me stop you.” 

You lean in, planting a small kiss on the corner of his mouth, sliding your tongue in once he opens up. You let your towel drop so you can press your breasts flush against his hard chest, and finger the part of the towel he’s tucked into place. He merely leans back against the closet, resting his elbows on the top drawer. 

You take it as a sign to keep going, so you tug the towel off until it falls to the floor, and then his considerable length is bobbing against his stomach. It’s enough to make your heart flutter. So you sink to your knees, grip the base of his cock with one hand while you lick a slow line from there to the tip. He groans your name painfully, but after all his teasing you’re going to give him a taste of his own medicine.

You linger on the head of his cock, never taking him fully into your mouth but just sliding your tongue lightly around the skin, eliciting another low moan from him. “Don’t tease,” he whines. 

“I thought you liked that, by the way you tease me,” you respond in as smooth a voice you can muster, which ends up boosting your confidence. You spit on his dick and start to pump your hand up and down, while the other one is splayed flat against his lower abdomen. After a while he tries to thrust into your hand, but immediately you let go of him. 

“None of that, now,” you instruct matter-of-factly and resume your ministrations. You feel a twinge of guilt for torturing him like this, so you make his breath hitch by taking his full length - well, as much as you can manage - into your mouth and begin to bob your head. His hand shoots to your head, twisting your hair around it and tugging firmly. You look up to him as you blow him off, right into his darkened eyes. 

“Fuck, don’t look at me like that,” he breathes out. You move back to take a couple breaths, and then continue with even more rigor. You’re basically deep throating him, which is something you’ve always refrained from doing to previous partners. They would always push your head hard enough that you couldn’t breathe, even when you said no. But Eren - though it IS the bare minimum and all men should be aware of it - is always thorough in making sure you’re doing it on your own accord. It’s refreshing. 

You feel a sharper pull at ýour hair and hear Eren pant out, “I’m gonna come.” Normally you would get out of the way because once again boys are beasts that decide it's a good idea to come all over your face without asking, but you wait and see what happens with Eren. 

Since you hadn’t moved away after his warning, he takes it as a sign to keep going. When hot cum shoots into your mouth you swallow and slow your movements, dragging out his orgasm. His face is one of pure bliss - you can see how he enjoys giving rather than receiving. It makes you feel satisfied in another way. 

Once his cock only twitches in your mouth, you release him and take a few deep breaths. He does, too, and lets your hair go limp against your back. 

“Remind me to let you do that more often,” he says through a lazy smile while he helps you up. Your heart skips a beat at the implication of it happening again. It was only supposed to be a one time thing, you had made it abundantly clear the first time round at the bar. If only you knew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think we can all concur that Eren is a god at after care, yeah?


	14. All of our issues

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I LIVE :) Terribly sorry for the wait heheh but have this long chapter to compensate. Kinda plot-y? idkidk its cute tho promise!! Also this one might have more typos than usual I wrote it while I was half asleep okay okay byeee ilyilyily

Eren and you are dressed and cleaned up by ten, and even then you’re not sure whether everyone is awake yet. You’ve certainly heard doors creak and light footsteps down the hall, but no voices yet. Meaning, people are either sleeping or downstairs, careful not to wake those who are. 

As you open the door to the hallway as silently as possible, Eren toeing out after you, you cross your fingers that only a couple people at best are downstairs. You doubt that anyone other than Sasha, maybe Jean picked up on what was going on when they called you - as far as the others know, Eren and you are mortal enemies. 

Once you reach the landing, a couple soft voices can be heard from the kitchen. Making your way over, you round the corner and see Armin, Reiner, Bertolt and Jean sitting at the round table with cups of tea or coffee in front of them. When Armin notices you, he stands up and offers a cup of coffee.

“There’s some left if you'd like, I probably won’t make breakfast until the others are here.”

“Might as well,” you respond and sit down as Armin pours two cups. 

“Thanks man,” Eren sighs as he slumps into the chair next to you and watches Armin set the cups down. Reiner and Bertolt are deep into some conversation about skiing, and Armin is spilling all the details from last night to Eren, who looks gloriously hungover. This leaves you and Jean. 

“So.” he smirks and scoots his chair nearer. “You and Eren, huh? I believe you called it a ‘one time thing.’”

“Shut. The fuck. Up.” he chokes down his laughter while going on about last night. 

“I don’t know, it seemed sort of different over the phone last night…” Jean looks like he’s about to explode from laughter, but to your relief, he doesn’t. 

“Who even heard that? Sasha put me on speaker! If I had the option of never showing my face again, I’d take it,” you bury your face in your hands, happy the others’ chatter is masking this conversation. 

“Don’t sweat it, it was only Sasha, Connie and a couple others but we were all drunk off our asses so I doubt anyone besides me and Sasha were paying attention. Wouldn’t be surprised if she doesn’t remember either, you know how she is. She was probably off stuffing her face.” His words comfort you a little, but just as you start to calm down, the others walk in. 

“Ah, if it isn’t the severe hangover gang,” Reiner announces to a yawning Sasha and half asleep Connie. 

“Some of us were up late for other reasons,” Ymir comments smugly from behind Mikasa, who is also looking like she could use another 24 hours of beauty sleep. Historia blushes fiercely, and it’s kind of cute. Reiner on the other hand, grunts in irritation. Maybe one day, you sympathize with the poor guy. Probably not any time soon, but maybe one day.

“Me and Annie can make breakfast today. Armin, you deserve a little rest,” Mikasa says and gets to work.

“Thanks Mikasa. I have a meal plan posted on the fridge if you wanna take a look - today should be english breakfast.” Annie snorts at that, making Armin blush redder than Historia. Yet, you get the feeling she thinks it's cute. Sasha and you have conspired lately that they should be set up - they would be totally cute together. 

The kitchen smells like heaven on earth when the food is ready, and it's devoured in minutes as soon as it's set on the table. Of course, nobody is a match for Sasha, but Jean came close. 

“So what’s the plan for today?” Bertolt asks the group once you’re all half asleep again from your food comas. 

“Last night was rough. Can’t we just… I don't know, chill today?” Eren is the first to speak. 

“I second that,” Connie jumps in. Maybe boardgames and naps? 

“As long as they don’t get to play, I’m down,” Annie remarks with a pointed look toward you and Eren. You all laugh, and for the first time, it feels like you’re all one big family. How you all bonded so well is a mystery to you, but you’re happy you found these idiots. 

-

It’s well past five when you’re lying passed out on one of the living room couches, the others down stairs playing a game and Jean trying to schmooze Mikasa out on a walk. And then there was Eren, who was splayed out across the other part of the L-shaped sofa, head resting on a pillow by your own head. You sit up groggily, rubbing your eyes and look down at his face. He looks so peaceful like this, none of his sarcastic, smug usual demeanor, but also not a trace of the pain so clearly lining his face last night when he opened up to you. Even now, he is gorgeous - the high cheekbones, sculpted jaw and strong nose. Even his eyelashes are thicker than yours, you notice with a tinge of annoyance. 

“Like what you see?” he rasps out with his eyes still closed. How on earth did he know you were watching him? You weren’t being a creep or anything. You’re caught off guard, so when you open your mouth the half-assed excuse you think up just won’t come out. “Come,” he cuts you off, and swings his arms open in signal for you to crawl into them. 

Well… nobody else is around, so what’s the harm? Tentatively, you scoot closer until you’re both on the same length of couch and you’ve got your face pressed against his warm chest. He wraps his arms around you, and you curl a leg around his waist to get as close as possible. His presence in itself is just so warm and comforting. He lets out a hum of contentment, softly brushes his fingers through your hair and you fall asleep again quickly, the soft beating of his heart reverberating against your cheek. 

-

You wake abruptly to the sound of little giggles and flashes of bright light visible through your closed eyelids. You grab blindly in front of you, and blink your eyes open when you touch something soft and warm. Right. Eren. You. The sofa. But what’s all the commotion about? Eren seems to be wondering the same thing as he stirs awake, but gains his bearings before you can. 

Suddenly, you’re tossed to the side and he shoots up, tackling Jean, now hysterical with laughter, to the floor. Connie and Sasha are taking pictures with the flash on, laughing along with everyone else who seems to have gathered to watch you and Eren asleep on the couch together. 

“Fuck off man!” Eren’s hot-headed side comes out as he wrestles Jean for his phone. “Delete them right now!” he demands Sasha and Connie too, once he’s got Jean wiggling uselessly under his weight and is going through what must be the pictures. 

“Aw, come on. It was too cute to resist! Don’t be a buzzkill,” Reiner comments from by the roaring fireplace. 

“Besides,” Mikasa chimes in, “You always used to brag to me and Armin as kids how loving is a weakness and blah blah. How did that work out for you?” 

Eren looks like a grumpy child, sitting cross legged on the floor now. Mikasa’s words have you taken aback a little - Eren seems to love so passionately, so fiercely. At least when he spoke about his mother. You decide to ask him about it later though, because right now you’re a little hurt that he reacted the way he did. Then again - you have no right to feel that way, not when your relationship is so… unclear, complicated and frankly confusing.

“How about we make some dinner instead?” Armin thankfully intercedes. It has in fact gone dark outside, the deep blue sky perfectly starry and clear. It can’t be any later than seven. 

“Oh, can we make chicken?!” Sasha pleads, the situation completely forgotten. Everyone else seems to be up for food too, as a chorus of stomach rumbles are let out. 

“As long as you don’t eat the food while we’re making it,” Armin gently chides Sasha and makes his way to the kitchen. The others scatter, too, but Annie hangs behind. 

“I think me and some of the others are making a trip to the store in the valley, wanna come?” she offers in her usual monotonous voice. You shake your head.

“No, I need to relax a little more before we eat. The hot-tub is on the second floor balcony, right?”

“Yep, just remember to bring a towel out, so you don’t have to walk back inside with your ass freezing off.” You nod a thanks for the reminder, and look to Eren as she leaves. Not quite sure what to say - or whether he’s even in the mood to talk - you stand up awkwardly and walk up stairs. Before The turn in the stairs, you cast a last glance at him. He’s frowning at the floor, his eyebrows bitterly knitted together. Based on his previous reaction to the whole relationship thing, you decide not to bother him any further. He seems to have gotten your message from the bar those weeks ago loud and clear. It was stupid of you to even hope. 

Trudging to the end of the hall and into your shared bedroom, you grab a white bikini from your pile of clothes, get changed and fetch a towel from the bathroom. You tiptoe through the corridor, past the staircase and up onto a small elevated lounge room with huge windows. You spot the tub outside, perched on a wide wooden balcony that gives a perfect view of the mountains, yet is covered from the falling snow by a large awning. Historia’s parents have even gone through the trouble of installing patio heaters, so that when you slide the sliding glass door open, you’re met with a rush of heat from above. 

Eager to let the hot jets massage away the tension that’s rapidly building up between your shoulder blades, you pad over to the edge of the tub, dipping a foot in to test the waters. It’s scalding hot, but you figure it’ll go away momentarily. Plus, the sting against your skin as you sink in is nice to distract your mind from already overthinking. 

-

You’ve drifted somewhere between sleep and consciousness when suddenly you jerk back to reality, heavy eyes opening wide. Someone’s prodding your shoulder gently. 

“Sorry, I thought you were awake,” Eren apologises soberly, hovering over you wearing nothing but a pair of navy swimming shorts. “Scoot.” You obey, pulling back your legs from where they were sprawled across half the seating. Eren steps into the water, calmly taking a place across from you but on the same side of the tub. 

You can feel him looking at you, but you refuse to acknowledge it, staring out at the dark mountains under the thick blanket of stars. The warm glow of the patio lights heats your face, yellow soft light from inside the cabin illuminating both of your faces. 

“I’m sorry,” Eren breaks the silence after a while. Not gonna cut it. 

“For what?” You want to hear him say it, want him to know what he did to hurt you. Not that you would ever admit that you were hurt in the first place. 

“You know… earlier.” You still don’t look at him, not until he gives you a full apology. 

“I haven’t the slightest clue what you’re on about,” you say nonchalantly. You hear a deep intake of breath, and out of the corner of your eye you catch Eren looking around suspiciously - probably making sure nobody else is around to hear what he’s about to say. Typical boys. 

“I apologise. For earlier. For the way I reacted when the others took those photos, and when Mikasa insinuated that… that I felt anything romantic for you.” You turn to look at him then, curious against your better judgement as to where he’s taking this. “And I guess I just want you to know that you didn’t embarrass me.”

“Me embarrass you?” you huff. “Do you know how humiliating that was for ME? I mean, I know the others don’t care, but still. It felt like you were scared to be seen with me like… like that.” 

Hurt flashes across Eren’s face for a moment, leaving a pained expression behind. “It wasn’t you. Rather, it was about what Mikasa said.” When he doesn’t elaborate, you look him pointedly in the eye, as if to say ‘go on.’ “I’m so tired of losing people close to me. My mom, and then my dad fell out of touch with me afterward… Letting myself love only seems to get me hurt,” he finishes.

You consider his words for a second, trying to take his point of view. “So basically showing emotion scares you?”

“If you’re gonna be that blunt about it, yeah. I guess.” Your eyes interlock with his green ones, gleaming in the moonlight. 

“But… you’re so different from that. With me, I mean.” It shocked you more than you let on when he told you about his mother the other night, taking into account how cool and distant he usually is. 

“Like I said,” he pushes on with an even more intense gaze. “When I’m around you I just want to be myself for once. To let myself…” He trails off, but you catch his drift. And it’s true. Something did change that night. 

After a long pause with only the howling wind for a buffer, you finally speak again. “I forgive you. And thanks. For saying sorry.” He cracks a small smile, barely visible in the faint light coming from the house. 

“Come here,” he says, his voice gentle as a dove’s fluttering wings. You crawl over to his open arms, settle between his legs and against his chest. His arms, somehow exuding warmth even in the hot water (though maybe that’s just your body reacting), wrap tightly around you as he kisses the top of your head. 

-

Thirty minutes or so have passed when you speak up from your cozy spot in Eren’s embrace. “I think we should get up - my fingers are all wrinkly.”

“Nothing out of the ordinary, then,” he teases, earning a light smack on his forearm. 

“I’m serious. Also, I’m sleepy. Not even bothered to eat, to be honest,” you say through a yawn.

“Knowing Armin, there’s probably some chicken leftover in the fridge in case you get hungry in the middle of the night, anyway.” Eren shifts, and you make to get up, too. “Jesus fuck,” he hisses as the icy air hits you both, steam floating into the air. “I’ll never understand the Finns who go between this and their saunas in the dead of winter.”

You chuckle and follow him to where the towels are hung - or rather, towel. Singular. 

“Um, where’s your towel? Please tell me you didn’t forget it. You were there when Annie reminded me!” you complain. 

“No, this towel is most certainly mine,” Eren states matter of factly and proceeds to towel himself off with it. Trying not to let your eyes wander too much, you cross your arms to prevent shivering. It doesn’t help much. 

“Asshole. What do you suggest I do now? It’s fucking freezing!”

“Well, I guess I’ll just have to carry you.” Before the words compute in your brain, Eren has the towel wrapped around his waist and you swept into his arms within seconds. You let out a squeal of surprise - maybe a little delight - as he marches you inside, closes the door behind him and carries you down the hall. 

You relish in the feel of his hot skin and taut muscles beneath your hands as you grip his shoulders, gone too soon as he pushes the bedroom door shut with a foot and tosses you onto the bed. You sit up, but are met with his handsome face only breaths away from yours. Heat spreads from the pit of your stomach, heart beat picking up speed. 

“Still tired?” he says with the heels of his hands resting on either side of your thighs, leaning into you with a downright ravenous look on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand I leave u on another cliff hanger. Next chapter should be up by Saturday or Friday, just good ol' s m u t 
> 
> Also I know I said there would be a ;)) hot tub scene but I kinda just wanted it to be fluff lmao. Anyways buckle up


	15. Reconciliation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Literally just smut no plot what so ever lmao. I'm so sorry you had to see this if you know me. I tried to refrain from the cringe wattpad smut writing but alas I have succumbed. Enjoy fuckers.

Your entire body freezes up in anticipation and completely vulnerable to his touch, clad in only a scant bikini. He takes advantage of that by trailing one hand up your arm, your throat and then stopping to grip you by your chin. 

“Is that a no? Answer me,” he speaks with a deceptively soft voice. You shake your head, not completely trusting your ability to form a sentence. “Use your words, please.”

“No. As in, k-keep going,” you manage to whimper. 

“Keep going with what?” He replies innocently - is he really going to make you say it? It’s slightly embarrassing to be reduced to such a mess by his one touch, but you want it too much to back down. 

“Touch me Eren. Please.” His face relaxes with satisfaction, and he glides his hands down your thighs and underneath them, where he picks you up off the mattress just enough to slide you up the bed. Wanton of his closeness, you lock your ankles around him once he settles over you, resting his weight on his elbows on either side of your head. 

Immediately, you feel the press of his erection against your wet pussy, and he makes a point of grinding onto you, the tip of his dick rubbing right onto your clit. You close your eyes and throw your head back, the sensations already muddling your brain to sap. 

He continues to tease you, but right when you’re about to come, pushing your hips forward, he stops his movements. You pout at him, but he merely chuckles. 

“Not quite yet,” he says in a low tone, and cups your cheek with one hand. 

“Why not?” you whine, and you can feel a smile spread on his lips as they press against your throat. 

“Because,” he latches onto your supple skin, and you expect little bruises to pepper all over later, “there’s no fun in that. I mean, I could just fuck you until you cry right here and now, but then it would be over. Do you want it to be over so fast?”

You have the decency to flush at his obscene words. “N-no.”

“Good. Unless it’s to scream my name, shut it.” You can’t oppose him. Don’t even have a chance to, as his soft lips move to yours, capturing them completely as his tongue darts out in an outline of yours. Meanwhile, his unoccupied hand travels downward, fingering the edge of your bikini bottoms until the string on one side comes loose. 

You shiver at the contact of his spectacularly skilled fingers brushing against your entrance before he pushes two inside. 

“You like it when I do this, don’t you?” he says against your lips. The fingers inside you move in and out torturously slow, making small scissoring movements once he’s knuckle deep. You let out a moan in response at the way you quickly approach the edge of the high that is to come, only for his thumb to start rubbing circles over your clit. You think you’re about to explode into shudders of pleasure when once again he stops just before you can orgasm, pulling his fingers out of you. 

You’re about to complain because goddamn is he taking his sweet time, but you’re stopped when he brings his hand up to his face. He licks up the wetness coating his two fingers, all the while holding eye contact. 

“Mm. You taste so good,” your name rolling off his tongue like sweet honey. He starts moving down, down, down until his face is right between your thighs and his breath fans over your needy wetness. Tired of his games, you grab a fistful of his hair, look him dead in the eye and say:

“If you don’t eat me out right now, I am going to blue ball you so fucking hard.” No room for embarrassment at this point, you shove his face toward you. He takes your order immediately, tongue moving deliciously in swirls around your entrance before dipping in and out. The tip of his nose nudges against your clit, and you find yourself pushing his face harder into you. He doesn’t hesitate to go harder, increasing the pace and pressure of his wicked tongue with the help of his hands, which are now holding you still by the hips hard enough to bruise. 

As if to finish you off, he latches his mouth onto your overly sensitive bud, suckling while pumping two fingers into you. You’re sent over the edge- letting his hair go and grasping at the pillows frantically as Eren now only gently kisses your thighs to help you ride out the euphoria. 

“Good girl, so pretty when you come.” You let out a soft moan as the stars disappear from your vision, only to be replaced with Eren’s boyishly handsome face above you. “Can you take more?” a devilish grin spreads across his perfect lips. 

“Please. Just give me… a second…” you try to collect your thoughts. Though that was one of the best orgasms of your life, the sight of him, his chiseled upper body and messy hair makes you want more. Need more. In fact, though you don’t typically go for seconds right away, you feel new waves of wetness and heat spread down your body. 

Somehow through all of this, he’s patient enough to just slide his fingers across your throat, down to your chest and roll your nipples between them. What a fucking guy. 

His darkened eyes flick to yours. “Are you sure you can take it in a state like this? After all, we wouldn’t want you limping forward tomor-” 

“Shut the fuck up,” you breathe and grab his face, pulling it down until your lips meet. 

“You asked for it,” he whispers. You think he’s letting you take the reins again until all of a sudden his hands are on your hips again, flipping you onto your stomach and lifting your ass into the air. You hear some cloth rustling, and then his hard length is pressed against you. His right hand rubs the small of your back affectionately before taking a solid grip, his thumb resting on one of your little lower back dimples. “So ready for me,” he praises you before rubbing his tip along your slick folds.

You whine aloud a little, trying to push your butt backward to increase the pressure. “No more teasing, please Eren.”

“Only because you begged so nicely.” Without a second word, he positions his cock right at your entrance and in one forceful thrust, slams into you. The first seconds are slightly painful- this angle makes his already thick girth stretch you out even more than his fingers. 

He stops when he’s fully inside you, letting you adjust. “I’m gonna start moving now, okay?”

“Mhm,” is all you can utter, your hands fisted around the sheets. 

Slowly, too slowly, he pulls out until just the head of his dick is in you before pushing back in just as roughly as before. He sets an even, rhythmic pace at first but the thrusts become increasingly ruthless as his groans of pleasure mix with yours in the air. 

“Ah, just like that,” you say breathlessly. 

“You take all of me so well. So good…” He leans down enough to reach his free hand forward, palming one breast while hitting all the right spots with his dick. It isn’t long before you feel another orgasm rising to the surface. 

“Eren… I'm gonna-” he gets the gist, and seems to be near too, because his hand previously occupied with gripping your hip wraps around you to start rubbing frantic circles around your clit. That does it completely, your pussy clenching around his cock as his movements lose their rhythm, becoming sloppier until he comes inside you. 

The pleasure is still rippling through you both when he pulls out and slumps down beside you. Your breaths are the only sounds in the dark room for a while, recovering. Once they even out and your shaking subsides, Eren roughly pulls you close to him and peppers your shoulder with kisses. 

“You’re incredible,” he sighs contentedly. 

“Never thought I’d hear those words from you, but right back at you,” you smirk. 

“Come one, let’s get you cleaned up.” Indeed, his cum is starting to drip down your thighs. 

“Can’t walk,” you respond and screw your eyes shut. You probably could (questionably though), but you can’t be bothered to get up right now. Eren however, has other ideas, as he again shifts to pick you up, sheets still wrapped in a tangle around your body, and walks to the bathroom. 

You silently thank Historia’s loaded parents for having a marble bench built into the spacious shower, as Eren sets you down there. He pulls the sheets off, tosses them on the floor and turns on the hot water. You stand up, reveling in how it rains down from the entire ceiling of the shower, and soon enough steam fills the bathroom. 

Your muscles relax under Eren’s touch as he stands behind you, bodies pressed close. He once again lathers his body wash over you: across your shoulders, fingers gliding easily down your arms, around your torso and up again where he cups your breasts, massaging gently. At last they travel to your thighs, where his caress is dangerously close to the apex of them. 

You stand there dumbly, but can’t be bothered to do anything other than shut your eyes, throw your head back against his shoulder and whimper. Part of you wants him to keep going, another wants to collapse from sleepiness and exhaustion into his arms. Eren seems to be totally in tune with your thoughts, taking it no further but instead cleaning himself off as the water patters against your skin. 

After both of you are completely clean, you bundle yourself up in a towel and sit on the edge of the bathtub to collect your thoughts as Eren heads to the bed. Your eyes are closed, but you hear the soft rustling of sheets and pillows. After a little while, your head snaps up violently after very nearly drifting off. 

You hear an amused chuckle, look up and see Eren through the doorway, standing next to the foot of the bed in his sweats. A bed with clean sheets. This man is a fucking godsend. “You can be tired all you want now,” he says gestures toward the mattress. 

Not needing to be told twice, you shrug the towel off, pad to the closet and slip a pair of underwear on before launching yourself at the bed. The mattress is heavenly and Eren, already in bed, throws the covers over your body. You nestle closer, burying your face in his chest as he turns off the table lamp. 

“Night,” he mumbles in the cutest sleepy voice- it seems you’ve both worn yourselves out. You mutter something incomprehensible in response, and drift to sleep with your arms locked around his waist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let's start a new trend called "how many times can thepurpletitan end a chapter with eren and y/n falling asleep"


End file.
